Scarlet Fangs
by ChariZoo
Summary: Two worlds. Completely seperate, completely different. One built on light and the other darkness. Yet, when the darkness becomes unbearable, there stems only one question - can love conquer revenge?
1. Enter the Night Stalkers

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.   
  
Warnings: Graphic violence, death, coarse language.   
  
Author's notes:  
  
Hi! This is FC speaking! This is me and Zoo's first joint fic though you all know we have done previous Yu-Gi-Oh! fics, so   
hopefully you'll like it just as much ^^. Oh! And this fic is an AU, so don't complain about any plot inconsistencies ;P  
  
Well, I'll be doing the odd chapters. Zoo here, will do the even.  
  
Zoo: o.O;; YAH!!!! I'm on fire!!!  
  
FC: *sweatdrops*  
  
Enjoy ^^  
  
*************************************  
  
"There are no eyes here  
In this valley of dying stars  
In this hollow valley   
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms…"  
- TS Elliot, "The Hollow Men"  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Vampires. The Children of the Dark. Once considered to be demons, they were given an entire separate classification   
due to their uncanny resemblance to humans. Perhaps, it is questioned, they _were_ once humans. Yet… why had they   
become who they are now? Why are they so darkly different?  
  
Enough questions. In the realm of the vampires, there needs not to be an answer…  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Chapter 1 – Enter the Night Stalkers  
  
  
~Earth, 2000 AD.~   
  
Mutou Yuugi waited impatiently, his blunt pencil wavering between his index and middle fingers. The 16 year   
old was always considered short for his age, ebony hair edged with crimson protruding at peculiar angles while golden   
bangs lined his innocent face. Violet eyes half closed with boredom as he waited for the dragging lesson to finish.   
Across from him, a tall blonde, Katsuya Jounochi, swung back on his chair lazily. Jounochi currently had his hands   
behind his head; his bored dark chocolate eyes examining the dull white ceiling. Yuugi smiled briefly at his friend's   
complete lack of concentration towards the teacher. He had found that over the years they had known each other, Jou   
didn't seem to have an extremely long attention span in school. Outside, the tall blonde could do what he wanted, but in   
the stuffy buildings made for learning, his attention flew out the open window. And how could Yuugi himself argue   
with such logic?  
  
Yuugi's questioning eyes roamed around the room, landing on Masaki Anzu, another friend of his. She was   
showing more application than Jounochi, though not a whole lot more. Brown hair blew gently around the sides of her   
face while her large cerulean eyes faced the teacher. They abruptly turned to one side when the girl felt someone   
watching her. Anzu glanced at Yuugi, flashing him a quick smile before turning back to the lecturer.   
  
Quickly pivoting his gaze, Yuugi found himself glancing at Hiroto Honda. Said brunette measured higher than   
Jou, his lanky frame matching his pointed hairstyle, an anomaly to no end. He too had no attention span whatsoever,   
apart from being seemingly content with making a plane out of paper.   
  
A small sigh escaped through Yuugi's lips as he stared at the clock above the black board, surrounded by   
informative posters of the English language. He intently watched the seconds' hand tick slowly around the face,   
drawing each second out to its longest extent. It struck the 12 o'clock mark and a loud piercing bell rang through the   
hushed classroom. Yuugi jumped to his feet, grabbing his books as he did. He stuffed them under his arm and rushed to   
the door, finding Jou on his left.   
  
Other countless bodies dragged the short boy out into the frantic corridor where he broke free from the crowd   
and headed to his locker. Twisting the lock combination, he opened the solid   
metal door and grabbed his backpack. There, Yuugi stuffed his various books in the crammed space before slamming it   
shut, grinning broadly at Jou as the blonde did the same.   
  
"Man does that lesson drag" Jou mumbled, shouldering his bag.   
  
Yuugi smiled teasingly "Every lesson drags to you Jou" he grinned, walking out through the double doors into the   
sunlit grounds.  
  
"I'm tellin you, dat ole bat's got it in for me." The taller of the two continued to grumble.  
  
Yuugi just laughed as they continued to walk down the hard   
tarmac pavement.   
  
******************************************************************  
  
~Shadow World, Reign of the Game King~  
  
Dark clouds rumbled threateningly overhead, muffling any hopes of sunlight. Rain flew down in torrents,   
pummeling against the ground to soak its once-dry surface. Now, it pelted down mercilessly on a single girl as she ran,   
bare feet slipping in the pasty mud. Wet strands of brown hair clung to her sodden face as she dared a quick glance over   
her shoulder. She suddenly tripped over a tree root and fell to her knees, though she picked her self up and continued   
her mad dash across the landscape.   
  
Ghastly dripping trees, made even more menacing by the shadowy darkness, seemed to grapple and sway with   
unnatural life. The girl brushed a stray lock of soaking hair from her face in an all too nervous gesture.   
  
She abruptly let out a diminutive scream as she hit something bodily in front of her. Strong hands grabbed her arms   
above her elbows; dark crimson eyes staring into frightened green ones.  
  
"Where did you think you were going?" A smooth voice rippled out over the splattering rain.   
  
Crystalline tears rolled in defeat from her emerald eyes as the taller figure smirked slightly, revealing two identical   
protruding teeth, pure as snow, glistening in contrast to the darkness that surrounded them. Strands of forked lightning   
shot itself out of the blackened clouds, the light illuminating his features.  
  
He was a rather handsome youth with ivory-white skin, crowned with a rugged fringe of spiky black and crimson   
hair. Like the bolts of lightning themselves, jagged streaks of pure gold ran along the side of his hair, some falling to   
cling against his unnaturally beautiful face. Ruthless crimson eyes bore down on the girl's terrified expression. Another   
flash of lightning arced across the darkened sky, reflecting off silver spikes studded around an ebony collar, which   
partially hid his pale neck.   
  
She uttered a small whimper as he ran a finger over her face, catching a single tear. He then held the finger towards   
his mouth, a scarlet tongue appearing from between the gleaming teeth, licking the salty liquid from it. He grinned at   
her before pulling her body closer, his mouth by her ear.   
  
"You should have stayed." He whispered, voice a cruel murmur. "For now, you'll have to be Punished."  
  
Lowering his mouth, he sank the twin teeth into her neck, directly into her contracting neck artery. Thick and newly   
released warm blood gushed into his mouth, staining his teeth crimson. These were the moments he savoured. Feeling   
her body start to limp, he continued to drain her vitality, watching bemusedly as her skin tone lost it's rich colour. At   
last, he let go, letting her body fall to the muddied ground. Looking at his bloodied fingers, he ran his tongue over   
them, enjoying the feel warmth of her fluid trickle and satiate his appetite.  
  
Finally, he turned back, heading out of the damp forest, slightly disappointed that his meal was over so fast. He   
quickly stopped when his sharp hearing picked up on something. Giving an annoyed frown, he turned in the direction   
of the noise, crimson eyes seeking in the hushed landscape.  
  
"Kiyo if you're going to stalk someone, at least do so quietly" He proclaimed, crossing slender but well muscled   
arms to glare at the nearby foliage as it gave a loud sigh.   
  
"Was I really that loud?" Kiyo asked, dogtrotting up to him.  
  
"Yes, but not as loud as last time. What are you doing out here anyway?" Crimson eyes burned down on the   
younger, blonde haired boy.   
  
"You're wanted back with the Clan at the Palace, Yami-Yuugi" Kiyo explained, feet shifting uncomfortably as he   
felt the hard eyes scoring down on him.  
  
"Fine, but next time, tell me face to face instead of stalking round in the bushes. And just call me Yami, you know   
I hate my full name" Yami huffed. His fun never lasted; matters always arose just when it started.   
  
Kiyo jogged beside the vampire, his own teeth hidden behind pale red lips. "What were you thinking about?" he   
dared the question fully aware of Yami's lack of commitment towards others.  
  
Rain dripped from golden bangs and crimson spikes as   
they left the shelter of the forest, entering the open stretches of the road. "Many things. Like why I am here." Yami   
began to muse. "Why we must only live in the Shadowed World? Are we… even normal?"   
  
"Course we're normal! Y'don't see other beings here, part from the werewolves and the human ranches. Maybe this   
is a Shadowed place, but to us it's perfectly normal" Kiyo responded in a perfectly logical manner.   
  
Yami nodded. "Have you heard anything about Tikato's Clan?" he continued to question. The pair were now   
only a few paces away from the Palace where Yami resided.  
  
Kiyo shook his head, wet blonde strands flying. "No, but it is still said he wishes to challenge you as King of   
Vampires." he replied, speeding up to keep up with the other.   
  
Yami scoffed at this. "Annoying little upstart bastard, if he thinks he can take me on he is welcome to try. I'd like to   
have a little fun" he murmured more to himself than Kiyo, a small lopsided grin playing on his lips.  
  
"Shall I send him a challenge?" the younger vampire inquired.  
  
"No. If he truly seeks a fight, he will come to me" Yami growled, stepping into through the palace's oaken doors   
and grabbing a towel from a nearby man. Rubbing his face dry, he walked up the stairs, only to be greeted by an aged   
vampire.  
  
"Did you get her?" The elder asked abruptly, not bothering himself by saying more.  
  
Yami finished with the damp towel and threw it back down the stairs, not concerned on whether it hit anyone. "Of   
course I did. Since when have I gone on a hunt and not caught the prey?" the question was strictly rhetorical.  
  
"Good. The owner of that human-ranch wishes to know which miscreant had purposely set her free in the first place.   
Be sure to sort that out, or else someone take advantage of such a lack of punishment." The aged one looked old but   
had the voice of someone much younger.   
  
Yami pushed open a door, stalking straight in, the other following him. "Fine" he answered, stopping with his head half   
turned, "Oh, and Faroway?"   
  
The second elder vampire stopped, watching as Yami flattened a hand, letting a small glow emanate from it. It flew   
around the dark room, lighting separate candles as it went.  
  
"Yes?" he barely had time to answer as Yami's hand was around his neck, nails digging in drawing out warm   
blood; his back pressed against the wall.  
  
"Never order me around again," Yami snarled bringing his face up close, "Is that clear?"   
  
Faroway nodded, dark scarlet blood dripping down from his neck onto the Darkness' fingers.   
  
"Yes what?" Yami bellowed, lip curled brutally, twin canines   
shown to their full extent. His balled fist connected with Faroway's stomach, winding the vampire.  
  
"Yes sire." Faroway choked, half starved of oxygen. Thankfully the Vampire King released his neck, letting him   
run out of the room and back down the winding steps. Cold, cruel laughter rumbled from his throat as Yami sucked the   
blood from his digits. Oh how fun life was.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
"Hey Jou! What do you think of this?" Yuugi called, running up the stairs into his bedroom, an immense   
dusted brown book wrapped in his arms.  
  
"What is it?" Jounochi inquired, staring suspiciously at the ancient book. Yuugi set it down carefully on his   
cluttered desk, running a finger over it's smooth surface.  
  
"Jiichan said an archaeologist gave it to him. They found it in Egypt" he explained.   
  
Jou stood, his tall frame towering above the smaller teen.  
"Cool" Jou picked it up, turning the front page to see inside. He flipped through it absently, entirely missing the first   
page. A page which spoke of a different world. A Shadow World of darkness which paralleled their own world of light.   
  
******************************************************************  
  
Later that afternoon, rain smashed itself against Yuugi's windowpane. It slid down in tiny wet streaks, glistening   
with facets of reflected light from within Yuugi's room.   
  
Yuugi walked in, hand lost under a towel as he rubbed his wet hair. Another towel wrapped around his slim   
waist indicated the use of the shower. Putting the first towel on the back of his desk chair, the small boy busied himself   
by getting dressed. He grabbed his back collar and tied it around his neck, completing his usual dress attire. However,   
he had forgotten his socks, unfortunately learning the lesson when he stepped on a stray textbook and slipped on it. He   
landed painfully on his rear, wincing as he stared at his feet.  
  
"Socks" he mumbled quietly, scrambling up and opening a drawer. He pulled out a chair and quietly put them on.   
Grabbing the towel again, he rubbed his hair to dry the wet spikes.  
  
The small boy's eyes wandered to the book he had left on his table; finding it had been propped on a specific page.   
He peered at it, hand movements halting. Lowering the towel, Yuugi let it drop to the floor. Frowning, he picked up the   
book, balancing it in his hands. Somehow, he felt drawn to the strange text scrawled on the yellowed pages. They   
seemed to suddenly spring to life, and glow a dull golden sheen as they bore its meaning into the small boy's mind.   
Without thinking, he began to murmur the words, though what they said was beyond him. A thin finger ran over the   
yellowed page as he continued to read in a half-trance. As the text ended the words began to glow, the light lifting up   
out of the book; circling around Yuugi's head. It flashed, blinding the boy. His senses failing him, Yuugi fell from his   
chair unconscious, completely unaware of the light that still shone or the gold pyramid that formed, lying loosely on his   
chest.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Yami gave a startled shout as a mystical light began to surround him. He snarled and began chanting a counter   
spell. It didn't help. Without warning, the vampire found himself in a dizzying whirlwind of energy. Before his piercing   
eyes closed completely, he was able to see the glimpses of a new surrounding enveloping him.  
  
Then… nothing…  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
End notes:  
  
FC: Sooo what's going on with Yuugi and Yami? This may be a bit confusing   
to start with but it'll get easier to understand later (we hope ^^)  
  
Flareon Muse: *snorts* not likely   
  
Eevee Muse : ^_^ then we can go on strike and leave!  
  
Zoo: Hey! *teary eyes*  
  
FC: yah ha ^^ Please review!  
  
Zoo: ^^= Okay! *runs over to review.*   
  
FC: *blinks* I'm scared now... 


	2. Enter the Lycanthropes

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. I also have no life, but that's for me to argue about ^^()  
  
Yup, its Zoo-chan here. Okay, you've gotten the drill. FC is doing the odd chapters, and I'm doing the even. We will be   
covering different ideas. For FC, its Yuugi and vampires. For me, Ryou and werewolves. Well, enough about that –   
enjoy the next chappy on a completely different idea…  
  
Note: Ryou is the person you all love. Bakura is the Yami you all.. uhmm… *coughs*. It's slightly OOC right now,   
but for a reason.  
  
Warning: Graphic violence, death, hints of yaoi, excessive swearing.   
  
******************************  
  
"…And we are here as on a darkling plain  
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight…"  
- Matthew Arnold, "Dover Beach"  
  
*******************************  
  
Werewolves. Feral, destructive beings; demons of legend mingled with human blood. They were the lesser   
humans, the ones possessed of a primal stupor.   
  
Wrong.  
  
Call them instead, the Darkwolves.   
  
*******************************  
  
Chapter 2 – Enter the Lycanthropes  
  
  
  
~Shadow World, Third Blood Moon Phase~  
  
  
"Shit!"  
  
He stomped his foot angrily on the ground. Said tan-skinned being brushed a hand through his   
coarse pale-blond hair in an almost nervous gesture. Again, he scanned his darkened eyes in hopes to locate   
his target, though his gaze met nothing but a mass of sounds and colours.   
  
He was a handsome youth, frame leaner and smaller than most of his kind. Only his slitted eyes   
revealed his true identity, currently half-hidden under a jagged row of golden-white bangs.   
Sometime during the morning, he had taken the thought to tame his unruly hair, though it now cascaded   
down his back, fraying at the edges. It had the effect of making him appear mean and tough, ironic   
considering what he was.   
  
And now, said youth gritted his teeth in a grimace, pacing impatiently back and forth while   
muttering incoherent words to himself. The only betrayal of his temper was the half-growl building in his   
throat, emitting a low barely audible rumble.   
  
"Damn that stupid jackass!" He continued to swear, roughly shoving several people aside when   
they fell into his aimless path. "Stupid, damned-"  
  
"- asshole." Another voice completed the sentence, this one in a calm and bemused tone. The   
owner of this voice belonged to yet another light-haired youth, albeit with several noticeable differences.   
Firstly was his skin, as pale as the other's was tanned. In fact, everything about the youth seemed to be   
drained of hue, from his unnatural silver-white hair to his light coppery eyes. However, there was nothing   
angelic about this being. The alluring dark eyes were fair game enough.   
  
The other swore, turning around to face his newly arrived partner. "Bakura! You don't have to   
scare the hell out of me!"  
  
The white-haired youth, Bakura, simply shrugged. "Nice to know that you care for me." He   
continued to grin, swinging with his free arm a large bulky bag of sorts.   
  
The other, Malik, sighed, eyeing the bag. "You really should stop your thieving. You know the   
Leaders disapprove of such actions."  
  
"The 'thieving' is the only way my pack has survived." Bakura scoffed, shifting his pace to a more   
comfortable lope as the pair began heading back to their caves. "My kinsmen have long fallen out of favour   
since or early forefathers, and I'd be surprised if the oh-so-wise leaders even gave us a rat's ass of notice."  
  
The pair continued to walk for a lengthy period of time in silence. They were now in a lush forest,   
its canopy as still as the communication between the pair. Finally, Malik spoke up, trying to ease the   
uncomfortable hostility Bakura was emitting.  
  
"Look. If you ever need any help or support, I'd be glad to –"  
  
"- Stop that crap." Bakura suddenly spat. Indignant amber eyes turned towards the other. "I'll   
handle my affairs and you shall stay in yours."  
  
The platinum-gold haired youth said though, though there was a curt, understanding, nod.   
  
Bakura opened to mouth to add a smarting comment, when he was suddenly cut off by a long,   
piercing cry. The howl continued to quaver for several seconds before abruptly collapsing into silence.   
  
The white-haired youth's eyes widened. His heart began to pound dangerously in his chest, filling   
his body with fear and unwanted adrenaline. "My pack! They're in trouble!"  
  
"Wait, Bakura." Malik reasoned, restraining the other by the shoulder." How do you know for   
sure? It could possibly be anyone's cry, not just those from your pack."  
  
"Possible my ass!" Bakura spat. "If I couldn't distinguish the difference between my pack and   
others, then I don't deserve to be the head." He wrenched his shoulder from the other's grips before   
breaking into a neck-breaking sprint.   
  
Malik sighed, watching the other disappearing into the thick forest trees. He pondered for a   
moment whether or not he should follow the other. Perhaps he was just over reacting, and everything was   
perfectly fine.   
"Ah hell." The tanned-skin youth finally concluded, diving into the woods to track his comrade.  
  
*******************************************  
  
Bakura was running at a full sprint when another cry penetrated the somber forest. The white-  
haired youth gritted his teeth, one hand clutching his chest while his lungs vainly tried to suck in enough   
oxygen. Sometimes, a human body really put him at a disadvantage. Although more intelligent than his   
lupine counterpart, it was terribly weak when it came to a contest of physical power. So now, Bakura   
stopped his unruly trek to rest and recollect his wits.   
  
He began focusing his attention inwards, towards the beating heart in his chest and the spiritual   
power shifting in a tight mass inside his body. With a long-experienced approach, practiced to perfection   
since childhood, the white-haired youth seized this shifting power and _twisted_. Freed from its internal   
barrier, the power flowed and seeped into every branch of his body, filling it with energy. His skin tingled   
and became bathed in a layer of warmth as coarse silvery hair replaced the bare pink flesh. He could feel   
his jaw quickly lengthen; dull molars realigned themselves into a row of jagged incisors.   
  
Yet, beyond the physical changes was the incredible internal transformation. In his human form,   
Bakura felt as if the world had taken a dream-like trance; his entire perception muffled and incredibly dull.   
But now, it sprang to life, lifting the blanket of fog around his senses and filling them with a million pieces   
of information. Just from one sniff, his nose could locate the trails left by every specimen, or even   
distinguish between two fallen leaves. And beyond that, the wind curling around his ears whispered every   
piece of gossip, never ceasing its endless chatter.   
  
Bakura allowed his transformation to complete while pacing himself at a half-lope. A few more   
paces and the shift was complete; a lupine grin spreading across his muzzle. The pure silver wolf - not _any_ wolf,   
but Darkwolf - resisted an urge to howl; digging his paws into the loose dirt to streak through the forest in a blur   
of fur and limbs.   
  
At long last, the dense trees and thick shrubbery cleared to reveal a rather crude, rocky brown   
clearing. Bakura's fur bristled with apprehension as soon as his paws hit the broken dirt. From his angle, he   
could see the entire vincinity of his pack's property. It lay shrouded by a thick, expanding ring of trees.   
Strewn across the sun-dried dirt was a muddy puddle of water, and directly behind it loomed a makeshift   
cavern. It was still incomplete, though the clay mud and random assortment of rocks had dried over time to   
form a half-decent shelter of sorts.   
  
Bakura trotted towards the "cave", taking a few experimental sniffs in hopes of locating any clues.   
Only a vacant silence remained from the piercing howls. Narrowing his eyes, he again circled the deserted   
site, paws plodding in agitated strides. And again, he found nothing: no unfamiliar smells; no foreign   
sounds; not even a hint of a familiar presence.   
  
His ears flattened along his skull, a confused half-whine escaping from his throat. The silver  
Darkwolf shot a quick glance behind him and continued to pivot his head in agitation. _Where_ could the   
others have gone?  
  
Suddenly, a faint rustle of bushes broke the deserted silence. Hopeful and at the same time wary,   
Bakura trotted towards the sound, poking his muzzle into the fringe of leaves. The bushes shook furiously,   
a scuffling sound behind the thick green foliage revealing an escaping presence.   
  
Bakura recovered his wits and shoved his frame through the tangle of leaves. Large twigs stung   
and scratched at his face, angering the Darkwolf until he snapped the brittle branches apart, clamping his   
jaws into the leaves and spitting out the acrid shrubbery seconds later. Finally, he squeezed through the   
remaining branches, shaking his body to remove the leftover miscellaneous twigs. A blur of grey suddenly   
caught his attention. Bakura shot his head towards the sight, ears pricking up and noting the muffled sounds   
rapidly disappearing at a certain distance away. Without even a moment's hesitation, the silver Darkwolf   
hurtled towards the source, expertly tracking the untidy trail left by the fleeing figure. Fortunately, Bakura   
was more-than-familiar with this territory; so he moved in confident leaps and bounds until the escapee   
was only several paces away. Now, he could smell the fear in the other's scent, and he idly wondered if he   
should pursue the other a while more just for the amusement.   
  
That thought quickly evaporated when he reminded himself of the situation at hand. _Someone_   
had deliberately stolen or kidnapped his pack, and he could bet his life that this escaping figure was one of   
the keys to the mystery. Yet, why had it been so easy? Bakura could have almost sworn that the other   
unknown Darkwolf was purposely leading him into a trap. Unwilling to take such a chance, the silver Darkwolf   
leapt into the air with a firm shove of his leg muscles. The targeted fleeing Darkwolf gave a startled yelp  
as Bakura slammed his bulk full-force into the other's smaller frame. The white Darkwolf immediately shoved   
his forepaws into the other's side, forcing the fleer to lose balance and fall into the dirt sideways.   
  
Teeth bared in an angry snarl, Bakura glared at the struggling Darkwolf, digging his forepaws into   
the other's exposed side to prevent escape.   
  
The smaller wolf yelped again as he felt the claws raking into his flesh, consecutive crimson cuts   
pooling and dripping down his light dull grey flank.   
  
Bakura brought his face as close as possible to the other's. He knew from the soft whimpers and   
feeble cries that this Darkwolf was barely out of childhood. Bile built in the silver wolf's throat as he   
considered which idiot pack-leader would be willing to sacrifice so young a wolf in executing such dangerous   
tasks. This "somebody" had to be stopped, even if it meant killing the half-cub below him.   
  
"Listen to me." Bakura's tone was a half-growl, one of barely suppressed anger. He spoke the   
ancient language of the Darkwolves, though he knew the other would understand. "I don't know what your   
leader has done with my pack, but I want to see them healthy and alive, or else you shall she how pretty   
your intestines look as a tree decoration."  
  
Had the other been human, Bakura knew that his face would be bleached of all colour. The smaller   
Darkwolf turned fearful eyes towards Bakura. "P-p-please don't hurt me anymore." He whimpered, bowing   
his head in submission. "E-e-everyone else was afraid to do it."  
  
Now, it was Bakura's turn to be shocked. "Everyone else?" He repeated. The anger suddenly   
flowed from him, to be replaced with momentary confusion. And only now did Bakura realize that he   
_knew_ this half-cub.   
  
"R-Ryaksha?" This time, the silvery-white Darkwof's tone became an awed half-whisper.   
Ryaksha. His half-brother's son.   
  
Ryaksha's ears drooped in response to his name.   
  
Though Bakura had never been considered emotional, the impact of this current situation swept   
him into a void of unexplainable stunned silence, as if the earth and heavens had cracked apart and reversed   
rules. An uncomfortable warmth spread throng his coat as his heartbeat seemed to pound erratically and   
suddenly come still.   
  
"Why?" It was a simple and all-too-plaintive question. He got no response. Angry, and desperate,   
Bakura dug his claws deeper into the other's flesh, ignoring the cry of pain. "WHY?"  
  
"Because you have failed us."  
  
Bakura swiveled his head towards the source of the voice in surprise. And from the foliage   
surrounding him emerged not one, but a whole pack of them. Each Darkwolf positioned themselves so that   
they caged Bakura in a circle. The mass of bodies parted just momentarily to allow another Darkwolf to   
stride into the center beside Bakura.   
  
This Darkwolf was a pitch black, a scar running from the tip of his muzzle to its ear, effectively   
blinding one eye in permanent closure. His fame was slightly bulkier than Bakura's, though not nearly as   
refined.   
  
Bakura took one glance at the intruder before averting his eyes. There was no way it could be him   
– it was _impossible_.   
  
"Look at him." Sneered another all-too familiar voice, addressing the black Darkwolf. "That   
coward won't even look at you. Huh, some pack-leader he was."  
  
"Silence!" The black Darkwolf snarled, forcing the jeering laughter of the others into a reserved   
nothingness. He then began to pace in a tight circle around Bakura, his single yellow eye never leaving the   
target. "Why, if it isn't my half-brother Bakura." His tone was sickeningly sweet, pleasant face a half sneer.   
"Why, we were just out hunting together yesterday. I thought you would be _dying_ to see me."  
  
Several of the others laughed at the joke, collective voices reminiscent of maniacal hyenas.   
  
Bakura forced himself to look straight into the other. "Why, Ryu? Why are you doing this?" Never   
in his life had the white Darkwolf thought such an act was possible. But now, it was painfully evident; the   
faces leering at him; his trusted sibling _mocking_ him. Even the little ones watched with large anticipating   
eyes, sheltered behind their protective parents.   
  
It was that simple.   
  
His pack had betrayed him.   
  
And yet, even now, with the truth shoved into his eyes, a part of Bakura refused to believe it. He   
simply did not want it to be true. It _couldn't_ be true!  
  
"Awwww… what's the matter?" Ryu continued to mock. "Poor little Bakura too afraid to speak?"  
  
The warmth had spread so that it was now a sickly-burning blanket of heat. It boiled and churned   
through the white Darkwolf's veins and covered his vision in a blanket of rosy red.   
  
Obliviously indulged in his self-pleasure, the black Darkwolf continued his taunts. "It's all _your_   
fault, you know. All your fault that –"  
  
Bakura leapt in an enraged blur of fur and flashing teeth. In one graceful movement, he dug his   
claws into the black Darkwolf's back, sinking sharp ivory fangs along he ebony neck ruff. The black   
Darkwolf responded with a cry of rage, shaking and buckling his body furiously.   
  
Despite the other's efforts, Bakura clung onto the flesh, snarling and twisting his head in attempts   
to break the neck-spine hidden beneath the layers of flesh. Thick red blood coursed into his mouth, mixing   
with his saliva and dripping down his chin.  
  
There was a considerable pause of silence before the other Darkwolves hastily leapt into action.   
Their shrieks, snarls and growls melded into a chaotic symphony of indistinguishable sounds. In some   
vague part of his mind, Bakura was aware of the weight and sharp stabs pummeling his body, though he   
furiously blocked the pain, concentrating only on his single intention. This was his only intention, one   
fueled by emotions of hatred and revenge. He knew that this sniveling, whining body below him was the   
source of his hate. And as long as he knew this, the persistent power and anger in his body would continue   
to churn and boil.   
  
The white Darkwolf twisted his jaws one more time. Now, he could smell the presence of death in   
his quarry, this knowledge giving him another vicious surge of power. Soon. It was very soon.   
  
Suddenly, a turbulent force pummeled straight into the white Darkwolf, heavy weight forcing   
Bakura to loose hold of his grip. His original target instantly thrashed with a newfound effort, the power   
combined with several other tugging forces shoving the white Darkwolf off his quarry. With a defeated   
snarl, Bakura fell to the ground, an overwhelming weariness suddenly consuming his body; the past   
adrenaline accepting defeat to retreat.   
  
The white Darkwolf's legs have a feeble shudder before he collapsed with a sigh onto the ground.   
He could sense the triumphant voices dancing around his body. It had all been in vain. The massive wounds   
and tears matting his beautiful silver fur into a dull scarlet mess confirmed the most painful scar.   
  
He was dying. And he had failed: failed in the hands of his personal agony.   
  
The whirlwind of excitement around him increased in fervor; echoes of roars, screeches, howls,   
and shrieks piercing his sensitive ears. Then, they fell, dying into a rushed rustle and finally silence.   
  
At first, Bakura thought that he was already dead. And yet, his lungs still drew in harsh amounts of   
oxygen, a slight rasping gurgle escaping his mouth. Confused, the white Darkwolf forced his eyes open,   
lifting his head just inches off the ground before his muscles gave in, his head painfully hitting the ground   
once again.   
  
Someone was rapidly approaching him, and Bakura knew that he neither had the energy nor will   
to fend off this new opponent. He was as good as dead anyway. And the continuous sinking knowledge of   
his failure only accumulated to his self-loathing.   
  
The presence knelt beside Bakura, a comfortable pressure suddenly easing his profusely bleeding   
side.   
  
"Damn Bakura." A low, sympathetic voice muttered in the white Darkwolf's ear. "You just don't   
know when to quit."  
  
Bakura wanted to respond with his usual witty retort, though he managed only a weak gargle, light   
scarlet foam collecting at his mouth. Glassy eyes lolled helplessly to one side, momentarily catching the   
still-human form of Malik tending to his wounds.   
  
Everything was truly disappearing now. The world around him began to waver and vanish, each   
draw of breath bringing a longer lapse of darkness. Yet, he was not afraid of the darkness. He let it come,   
let it choke the faint gasps of his lungs and squeeze the dull thuds of his half-beating heart. For though he   
had failed life, death would always come to accept him.   
  
Yet, someone did not want him to die. This someone pressed a soothing hand, already covered in   
scarlet, against the white Darkwolf's muzzle, muttering soothing words in what seemed like an   
ancient language. Bakura knew it was only because his ears had already began to fail, his mind cutting off   
all recognition as his body degenerated from the lack of blood. The white Darkwolf felt the warmth and   
comfort from this presence and closed his eyes in acceptance.   
  
Someone had not rejected him. Someone still stood beside him.   
  
Malik watched as his comrade closed his eyes peacefully, allowing Bakura to slide his shaggy   
head onto his lap. The platinum-haired youth brought his face close to the silver Darkwolf's head, closely   
analyzing his pitiful friend. He could vaguely make out the last attempts of breath, and could literally feel   
the warmth and body heat escaping from the other's skin. As gently as possible, Malik clasped his bloodied   
hands around the silver Darkwolf, burying his fingers into the soft, shaggy fur. He drew his face as close as   
possible to the other's long muzzle before setting his lips into a soft kiss at the lower tip.  
  
It was a strange sight; human and wolf together. However, the silver Darkwolf lingered on that   
one kiss, a slight whining noise escaping from his once-paralyzed throat. The single touch between the two   
mouths seemed to bring with it an unexplainable energy. It was as if Malik was transferring his warmth and   
power to other.   
  
A tingle of power surged through his body, spreading along his body in a soothing blanket of   
strength. Bakura could feel his heart once again prancing with a newfound strength, taking several proud   
breaths as the energy continued to course and extend to every layer of tissue and bone in his body. Fueled   
by the supplied power, his body began to shift and re-assemble itself. His back arched upwards, hind legs   
elongating slightly, silver fur disappearing until all that was left of it was a scruffy silvery-white mane of hair. And   
still then, he had his lips interlocked with the other, feeding on the other's power until his body sighed in   
satisfaction.   
  
Malik pressed his fingers along Bakura's chin so that he could remove his lips as slowly as   
possible. The platinum-haired youth saw the slight indignation in the other's eyes, though he only chuckled   
at the sight and gave Bakura a good-natured pat on the head.   
"I'm glad you're back."  
  
Bakura huffed slightly and crossed his arms. "Great. I nearly die and all you give me is a quick   
peck on the lips."  
  
Malik only grinned at the other's piqued attitude. "If that's the gratitude you show me when I rescue   
your ass…"  
  
Bakura shuddered as he felt a pair of fingers slide under his shirt and across his   
perfect ivory skin.   
  
".. Then I'll make sure to do it more often."  
  
The perfect pair rose and fell in harmony, twin silhouettes outlining the forest-green mountains   
until the sun sank and nighttime came to claim their shadows.   
  
*****************************************  
  
Emerald-black trees whistled just slightly as a pair of luminous figures slid through their domain.   
They glided and weaved through the forest like a pair of silent ghosts, though from their mouths emitted a   
consistent frequency of whines, growls, and sharp barks.   
  
Bakura nipped playfully at Malik's slightly dropping ear as he sidled beside the other, paws   
trotting in intermittent bursts to match the other's pace. The other Darkwolf shook his pale golden fur in   
mock fury. He turned around and clamped his jaws gently on Bakura's ruff, startling the silvery-white   
Darkwolf into submission and then indignation.   
  
The continuous cycle eventually shifted into a full-out romp, both wolves playfully challenging   
each other until they fell, refreshingly exhausted on cool night ground. There, both of them watched the   
stars sprinkle in the sky, watching until they fell asleep, furred heads resting against one another. Overhead,   
the full moon stirred just momentarily to bathe its radiance over twin bodies of gold and silver.   
  
It also revealed a set of shadows fleeting by, though it could echo no warning to the sleeping   
figures.   
  
***********************************  
  
A stunning jolt of pain woke Bakura from his peaceful slumber. The silver Darkwolf jerked his   
head in shock, feet planting themselves onto the floor. And yet, his feet were refused; held by a series   
of coils binding all four legs in a crude restraint. More ropes were swathed over his collar and stomach, the   
ends trailing off to anchor themselves firmly on the ground.   
  
The first thing the silver Darkwolf saw, however, was not the multitudes of restraints, but a   
sneering, glaring face in front of him. It was human now, though the single, scarred eye and lurid   
expression remained the same. Bakura's chest began to tighten with apprehension at the approaching figure.   
  
"Told you you couldn't escape." Ryu laughed, beautiful human face bathed with moonlight. "But   
now, with you tied and helpless, I shall finally finish my revenge. And what a revenge it will be."  
He suddenly shifted to one side to reveal a shrouded figure behind him. This figure was that of   
another restrained Darkwolf, though even in the shadows its identity was easily recognized.   
  
Bakura suddenly thrust his weight against the restraints and snarled. He continued to push against   
them, feeling the coils rattle and shudder, though he knew he was still as trapped as before. "Let Malik go,   
you ass!" He screeched in wolven-speech, twisting and squirming against his confines.   
  
Ryu tsk-tsked. "Pain comes in many forms." He began to lecture, suddenly taking from a nearby   
person a gleaming knife. It had a large, flat blade of pure silver, ancient runes scribbled down each of its   
sides.   
  
Now, Bakura could see the other members of his "pack", prowling restlessly in a circle around   
him. Unlike their new leader, they were all still in their more powerful wolf forms, eyes laughing and   
vulgarly cheerful. Upon seeing the sea of mocking faces, Bakura stopped struggling, slumping hopelessly   
to the ground. This pack was _his_ pack – the pack he had raised, had supported, had nourished for so   
many years. It was strange how everything could so simply turn against him. It was strange for them to   
suddenly betray someone who had cared for them.   
  
Malik, now awake, growled threateningly as Ryu passed by him, fur bristling in jagged spikes at   
the "human" pacing around him. Ryu just laughed at the golden Darkwolf's attempts, throwing the knife in   
the air a few times so that it glimmered and flickered with iridescence.   
  
"You shouldn't have helped." Ryu mocked, fondling his knife as he spoke. "You could have lived   
a nice, healthy, long life, away from this pain and misery."  
  
"Yes." Malik suddenly said, vicious eyes locking with Ryu's face. "I shouldn't have helped. I   
should have killed you in the first place."  
  
Bakura jerked his head back in surprise. Malik had known about this incident all along?  
  
As if hearing the other's thoughts, Malik turned his eyes towards the silver Darkwolf. "Bakura,   
I'm sorry. I knew your pack was plotting against you, but I didn't want to say so. I didn't want to see you   
hurt, because I knew you wouldn't have accepted the fact if I had told you."  
  
Ryu threw back his head and laughed, turning towars Malik. "Such irony!" He brought a mocking hand to  
his forehead and shook it. "You didn't want to _hurt_ your lover, and you end up killing him instead! Oh, this is   
_grand_!"  
  
What was a low growl became a full-fledged roar, the golden Darkwolf suddenly shoving his   
entire bulk against the restraints, snapping his jaws viciously. Malik then dug his feet deeper into the   
ground, straining against the ropes with such fury that they began to loosen and escape from their anchors.   
His eyes glowed dangerously, burning with absolute rage, entire body glistening with power.   
  
… and then, he stopped.  
  
Crimson blood began to splatter like rain against the ground, pooling from the mess and trickling   
in small rivulets against the gritty ground. It was warm and still throbbing with vitality. And for a moment,   
Malik seemed to take a step from his paralyzed position. One of his eyes lay in a fixated glare of anger,   
while from the other protruded a long, silver knife, blade still gleaming over the puddling mess of scarlet.   
And then, the golden Darkwolf shuddered, his entire body collapsing with a dull thud onto the ground,   
single eye still glazed with rage.  
  
Ryu began to laugh. He laughed as he crudely seized the knife embedded deep into the dead   
Darkwolf's skull, stabbing it a few more times into the once-proud face. The knife, covered in a precarious   
layer of blood, gleamed wickedly, dripping its precious scarlet onto the tongue of its owner.   
  
All this Bakura watched, with an indescribable paralysis. It was as if he was watching a vulgar   
ritual, mind no longer in contact with his memory; unable to understand or recognize what had happened.   
  
"What's the matter, _brother_?" Ryu mocked, licking the last remnants of blood from his shining   
blade. He watched Bakura's frozen expression before breaking into a parodical pout. "Lost someone you   
could fuck with?" Ryu began to step closer to the other, all but emitting radiance. "I'm a good fucker too,   
you know. Don't you want to try?"  
  
Bakura again said nothing. His body felt oddly boiling and freezing at the same time, a gigantic   
pressure pounding against him and leaving him utterly helpless and weak. Everything became too loud, and   
his senses were no longer keen, but an ugly blot of incomprehension.   
  
"Awww…" Ryu grinned. Now, he was only inches away from the other. The knife gleamed   
playfully in one hand. "You don't want to play anymore. What's the matter? Are you angry at me?"  
  
Angry? No, Bakura wasn't angry. Anger was an emotion to describe an uncontrolled amount of   
rage or bitterness. What Bakura felt now was not an uncontrolled amount, but an _uncontrollable_ amount.   
It seethed and boiled in every tissue of his body, digging its claws painfully into his skin until it injected   
wave after wave of frenzied rage. It effectively destroyed every functioning thought in his mind, reeling it   
into a vortex of chaos, rallying even the calmest memories into rebellion. If what Bakura had felt was   
anger, then he was as good as dead. This - _this_ was something else. Something indescribable that   
demanded to be released.  
  
The ropes and restraints snapped like dry straw, falling in scatters along the ground. Bakura didn't   
even feel the knife fall in contact with his flank; he was already in mid-air, claws tearing at the single target   
burning in his mind. His dull nails dug and twisted in the soft flesh, pinning the helpless figure before   
anyone could consider blinking. And by then, Bakura had his jaws clamped onto Ryu's head, bringing his   
serrated teeth down, grinding them a few times to break apart the hard skull between them. Blood dribbled   
down his mouth, though another fluid blended in with the crimson, making the taste oddly   
unbearable. The silver Darkwolf chewed a few more times before spitting out the undigestable parts in a   
slobbering mess of orange-red. Infuriated red eyes could see the limp body, though it was useless as dead   
and hastily discarded to one side.   
  
He then turned his insanity-driven expression to the spectators, grinning with what could almost   
be considered a playful grin.   
  
They had no time to run. The first Darkwolf had actually tried attacking, charging with a valiant   
howl right for Bakura. The moment of heroic-vanity was shattered as the demonic silver Darkwolf broke   
the other's spine with a single snap, shaking the smaller body like a thick rag before tossing it effortlessly   
to the ground. He brought his blood-stained muzzle towards the night sky, crying out a deafening   
challenge. And then, he charged.   
  
Bodies. They danced everywhere, arching in a pattern of beautiful greys and browns to   
compliment the growing swirl of crimson. The warmth was everywhere – within the bodies, outside the   
bodies, pooling and collecting on the ground or on someones' paws. At first, there was plenty of it, but as   
the rush of chaos began to lengthen in time, it ceased, finally dulling into a stale cool mess along the   
emerald grass.   
  
A single figure still danced with warmth. He too had stopped now; chest heaving at irregular rates   
while pacing restlessly against the tide of slaughtered bodies. The dead eyes gazed accusingly at him,   
though he felt neither their pain nor hatred as he danced around them. Crimson blood allowed his dance to   
be as smooth as possible, like sliding along a glass surface.   
  
And then, finished with his dance, Bakura felt the rage slip from him, muscles contracting and   
shivering uncontrollably. For many a moment afterwards, he stood, a still statue alone teeming with life.   
  
From the dark clouds erupted the still moon. It rippled and pointed an accusing ray of light at the   
sea of carnage, staying for what seemed like eternity.  
  
  
There are many ways a Darkwolf could communicate. Sometimes, when together, they gather   
around, and sing long melodies consisting of ancient legends. Sometimes, it is a simple laugh; a call to   
strengthen the tie within a pack.   
  
But for Bakura, a lone, quavering cry, breaking into a solo of emotions, was enough. And even   
then, that died away.  
  
*******************************  
  
End notes:   
  
Zoo: Whoo hoo! FC's gonna have my hide for this! *runs away laughing insanely*.   
  
FC: *chasing after Zoo with rubber hammer* Die!! Ahhhh! How could you kill Malik?!?  
  
Zoo: ^.^= Easy! I kill everyone!  
  
Eevee muse: That's cause she doesn't have IQ to do anything else.   
  
Zoo: Hai! ^_^V. That's cause I don't have enough IQ to… o.O;; Hey! Waiiiit a moment!  
  
Flareon Muse: *aside to Eevee muse* Is Zoo always this slow?  
  
Eevee muse: *snorts* You kidding? This is one of her better days!  
  
FC: *puts rubber hammer away and gives readers a convincing grin* ^_^ Review time!  
  
Zoo: Hey! ;_; What about my whack?  
  
*WHACK!* 


	3. Enter the Hikari

Disclaimer: neither me nor Zoo own Yu-Gi-Oh! we do not admit to doing so but we   
do own ourselves!!! No matter what people say mwahahaha *ahem*  
  
Heya peeps! FC here. So we had Zoo-chan doing the last chapter so tis my turn ^^ so   
this time round we move back to Yuugi and the Vampires and next time we switch to   
Ryou and the werewolves- k?  
  
And yes it is a film quote but I'm crap at doing them (Zoo normally does them ^^) so   
it's bad but my attempt, Gomen ne!  
  
Warnings: Excessive swearing, blood, gore, death- not for weak stomachs later   
  
//Yami to Yuugi//  
/Yuugi to Yami/  
~ Individual thoughts ~  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
`When you're having fun go right an hour can seem like a second, when things go   
wrong a second can seem like an hour` - Preacher, Deep Blue Sea  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Humans. Considered the innocent beings, the _pure_ beings, their blood unmixed   
unlike the Vampires and Darkwolves. Some even connected to the demons of the   
Shadow Worlds.   
  
They make legends, myths of the demons, some gentle legends; others dark myths   
there to scare and horrify. They believe these stories to be fictional- untrue. If only   
they knew.   
  
Whoever said Red Riding Hood didn't die by the claws of the wolf…  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Chapter 3- Enter the Hikari  
  
  
~Earth 2000 AD. the Light World~   
  
  
Blood rushed through his head, temples drumming like an orchestra. Fingers rubbed   
his throbbing head as Yuugi's eyes slowly opened, blinking when he saw no light.   
Afraid he had lost his sight, Yuugi scrambled onto his knees, eyes searching   
desperately. He sighed with relief when he noticed the dark night sky looming around   
his window. Pure white moon illuminated the book on his desk which had somehow   
replaced itself back up there.   
  
Standing up, the boy felt something bounce against his chest. Looking down, he found   
an odd gold pyramid hanging from a chain around his neck. Fingers lightly touched   
the smooth surface, tracing the lines while violet eyes admired it's bright shimmer in   
the moonlight.   
  
Yuugi let go of the strange pyramid, making his way out of the darkened room,   
heading to the kitchen. Fingertips fumbled for the lost light switch. Once found, the   
room flooded with the artificial illume. Stumbling across the room, Yuugi picked a   
glass from the cupboard, moving over to the fridge, he pulled out an orange juice   
carton. Once said glass was full, the freshman made his way back up the stairs.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Regaining his senses proved to be painful and slow for Yami. The vampire drifted in   
darkness until crimson orbs opened revealing a blurred gloomy room. Recognising the   
thing he was lying on as being a floor except for something that was sticking into his   
stomach. Reaching a hand underneath his body, Yami pulled the thick flat object out.   
Distinguishing it as a book, the vampire didn't understand the title. There was nothing   
like _English: Textbook 5_ in his realm. What was English?  
"Where the fuck am I?" he muttered.  
  
Recovering the last of his actions, Yami became fully alert. With no idea where he   
was, he did the only thing he could do. Standing, he looked around attempting to find   
a clue as to where he was. The dark room was as clear as it would be in light to his   
eyes. Books of various types littered a cluttered desk, photo frames stood around the   
room, each containing pictures of different people. He snarled when a light lit up   
above his head.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Reaching his room, Yuugi turned the light on before entering. A deep snarl caused his   
head to snap up. The cup fell from his hand, smashing on the floor, orange juice   
splashing over the carpet; as he stared at the figure in the centre of his room. A cold   
chill ran down his spine, freezing his blood, body trembling violently as the figure   
turned. A black silver spiked collar circled the stranger's neck, black leather top and   
pants revealed every sleek muscle.   
  
Violet eyes widened as Yuugi's gaze was met with almost identical crimson ones. But   
that wasn't what frightened the boy. It was the curled lip which revealed two   
unnaturally long canines, pure as snow, bared in a savage fashion.  
  
Yuugi stepped back, tripping over another unseen book. Landing on the floor, he   
couldn't rip his gazed from the gleaming teeth as he slid backwards towards his open   
door.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Bared teeth vanished under a lowered lip as Yami gazed bewilderedly down at the   
short boy in front of him. Though clearly human with no hint of vampire heritage, the   
boy held an uncanny resemblance to the Vampire King. Crimson and black spikes   
shot up at identical angles, gold bangs lining his face. Terrified amethyst eyes stared   
at Yami, unable to rip themselves from his face. But it wasn't the shocking analogy   
that caught his crimson orbs. It was the child's innocence. It was pure, no hint of   
violence or hate radiating from him whatsoever. It was then Yami knew this was no   
ordinary human. For one, he had no desire to kill the quivering child.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Yuugi scrambled up and ran out through the door as the stranger stepped towards him.   
He dashed down the hallway heading for the stairs.   
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Yami growled angrily as the human ran out through the door. He gave chase, not one   
to want to attract unnecessary attention to himself. He saw the boy dash down a flight   
of stairs desperate to get away from the vampire. Yami took his chance. Running at   
the stairway he jumped over the stairs, landing on the ground floor at the exact same   
time as Yuugi. He grabbed the teen, strong arms wrapping around his arms and waist,   
stopping him from running.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Yuugi screamed, hoping to attract some kind of attention, drowning out the snarl   
between him. He stopped as a hand clamped over his mouth, halting the noise mid-  
flow. He struggled against the restraining arms but to no benefit.  
  
"Stop wriggling. If I was going to bloody kill you I would have done so by now"   
terrified tears fell from his wide eyes, falling down his face onto the figure's hand.   
"I'm gonna take my hand away now, but only if you don't yell. Are you gonna stay   
quiet?" Yuugi nodded, spiky hair brushing against the vampire's face.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
As Yami took his hand away, the teen set up another yell, panic stricken voice louder   
than before. Giving an annoyed glare, Yami was forced to replace his hand, silencing   
the boy again, though a muffled sob escaped his throat.   
  
"Look, if you don't stop doing that I'm going to rip your damn voice box out. Let's   
make this easier for you and me- I'd rather get some answers at the moment than go   
round with my hand on your mouth," he stated his temper remaining cool. "So let's   
try this again. Are you going to let me take my hand away?" he asked waiting. The   
child nodded again. "If you do start yelling I'll tape your mouth shut" Yami   
threatened warningly.   
  
Slowly he took his hand away, letting it waver before finally lowering. "Alright. Now   
I want some answers" he remarked. Lifting the boy facilely, Yami walked back up the   
stairs to the first room he was in.   
  
Boots crunched down on glass shards as they entered the room, light still glaring   
down. Walking over to the desk chair Yami let go of the boy, sitting him in the   
cushioned seat. He knelt down in front of the child.  
  
"Ok, let's start with simples first," he stated, "What's your name?" He waited for the   
teen to answer, though all he got was a blank look.  
  
~ Great, he's in bloody shock. ~   
  
Standing up straight, Yami headed out of the room. Opening a door he walked in,   
performing a quick glow spell enabling him to see. He found a cloth and ran it under   
the cold tap. Ringing the majority of the water out, the vampire headed back out of the   
dark bathroom.   
  
Before he could enter the first room, the small teen ran out through the doorway, past   
the vampire. Though Yami wasn't slow. Reflexes acting like streaked lightning he   
had hold of the child once again. "Whoa!" he shouted, lifting the struggling boy,   
taking him back to the desk chair.   
  
Sitting him down, Yami placed firm hands on the freshman's shoulders, looking   
straight into the frightened amethyst eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just want   
some answers nothing more" he insisted, teeth clenched, jaw muscles tight. Taking   
the damp cloth he wiped around the boy's face, wiping the sweat and heat from his   
forehead. "Just co-operate with me on this," he reasoned, "what is your name?" He   
waited a few moments.  
  
"M-Mutou Y-Yuugi."  
  
"Alright, now we're getting some where," Yami gave his trademark half smile,   
though he was startled by the resemblance to their names. "Where is this?"  
  
"T-Tokyo, Japan" Yuugi stammered, voice matching his fear immersed face.  
  
"Japan? Where the hell is that? There isn't such a place" Yami snapped causing   
Yuugi to jump violently, "don't equivocate me. I want proper answers." Yuugi   
swallowed visibly, unsure of what he should say. "Now tell me where we are and   
don't lie to me!" Yami snarled, almost aggressively.  
  
"We're in Japan" Yuugi repeated unable to give a different answer. He gasped in pain   
as Yami squeezed his shoulder brutally, strong hand squashing the nerves. "I'm not   
lying, it's where we are!" he cried, tears running in long streams down his face.  
  
"There is no place called _Japan_ in the Shadow world, you lie!" Yami bellowed,   
long canines beginning to show as his temper rose.  
  
"I'm not! I don't even know what the Shadow world is" Yuugi's entire form   
shuddered as the vampire's grip sent excruciating pain running through it. Yami's   
eyes widened momentarily, his grip loosening.   
  
The child wasn't lying.   
  
Taking his hand away, he watched Yuugi raise his own, nursing his crushed shoulder.  
  
"But, if this isn't the Shadow world where is it, what world?" he inquired, confused.  
  
"This is Earth, I don't know of any other world" Yuugi sobbed, teary gaze giving him   
the look of a broken angel. Yami felt a pang of guilt rack his body, an unusual feeling   
for the cold vampire.  
  
"Gomen ne. I didn't mean to hurt you," he apologised quietly, "hold still."  
  
Unsure of what the vampire was going to do, Yuugi cringed slightly when he brought   
his hand up. "This'll help, I promise" Yami assured the teen. He took hold of Yuugi's   
jacket sleeve pulling it gently from his arm, exposing the youth's smooth tanned skin.   
Pulling up the short sleeve of his white shirt, Yami revealed the already ugly bruising   
that was starting to swell. "I just need you to stay still for a moment" he instructed.   
Though he was slightly reluctant to do so, Yuugi did as he was bidden.   
  
He watched as the vampire began chanting something in a foreign tongue, unlike   
anything he'd heard before. A small blue globe formed in the palm of Yami's hand,   
light hovering above his ivory skin. The vampire blew it gently towards the youth's   
shoulder, globe shattering into tiny specks. Yuugi gasped as the light hit his shoulder,   
cold to the touch.  
  
"It's c-cold" he stuttered watching the light appear to freeze and meld on his bruised   
shoulder. Yami smirked slightly at the crude remark.  
  
"That's because it was an ice spell. It'll freeze the bruising, reducing the swelling   
before it starts."  
  
Yuugi looked up from the ice forming on his shoulder to Yami, watching as he gazed   
around the room. "You never told me your name."  
  
"Hmm?" Yami drew his attention back to the youth.  
  
"Your name. You never told me it" Yuugi repeated, fear gripping his untamed heart.  
  
"Yami-Yuugi, though I hate being called that so most just call me Yami" he   
answered, crimson eyes burning down.  
  
"Darkness…does that mean you're kinda like a dark side, like my dark side or   
something?" Yuugi frowned slightly.  
  
Yami contemplated the question. "I suppose so, yes. Which would make you my   
Light side, my Hikari. That would explain why we look the same and why I had no   
desire to kill you."  
  
Unsure of whether to be relieved by the last remark or not, Yuugi caught another   
glimpse at the abnormally long canines as Yami ran a scarlet tongue over them.   
"What exactly are you?"  
  
"A vampire. King of Vampires to be precise" Yami's head turned down, unfazed by   
the question. He was met by a look of both disbelief and horror mixed into one.  
  
"A v-vampire?" Yuugi swallowed, "but you can't be, there's no such thing as   
vampires."   
  
Yami frowned at the comment. He spied a book sitting in the overstuffed bookcase.   
Walking over he wrenched it out. The teen looked at the title: Fairytales, Myths and   
Legends.   
  
"I suppose this tells you we're only figures of your imagination, there to scare you, to   
terrify you with the thought of our very existence" Yami barked, causing the boy to   
jump as he threw it across the room forcibly, watching it hit the wall with a loud   
smack. "Believe me, that book doesn't necessarily lie. We do exist, Vampires,   
Darkwolves, Demons, the whole bloody lot. We're all there. I've seen some of the   
things you probably only see in your worst nightmares."  
  
As Yuugi stared at the vampire's face he slowly began to realise the truth of his   
words. "You're not joking are you?"  
  
"I don't joke."   
  
Gnawing on his lower lip Yuugi glanced at the clock on his bedside table. 3:30am.   
Stifling a yawn he stood. Walking out into the hallway he went to the bathroom, Yami   
staring after him. Turning on the cold tap, he cupped his hands catching the cold   
liquid. Splashing his face, he wiped away the tearstains streaking his innocent face.  
  
//Damn am I hungry//  
  
Yuugi stopped in the doorway, startled by the comment. "You're what?" he inquired   
unsure if he'd miss heard. Yami turned gazing at him as he put a photo frame down in   
it's original position.  
  
"I never said anything" he frowned, turning his back to the youth.  
  
Yuugi nodded. "Yes you did. You said you were hungry."  
  
Yami whirled back round to face the boy, crimson eyes disconcerted. "I didn't say it,   
I- "   
  
//Thought it//  
  
"How did you do that?" Yuugi asked, confusion playing on his face as he held the   
gold pyramid in comfort. Looking down Yami noticed an identical object hanging   
from his own neck. He touched the cold metal, feeling a wave of energy flow from the   
object.  
  
"I think we have some kind of mental link, probably something to do with these   
pyramids" he muttered, turning back to the teen in front of him.  
  
"So you can hear all my thoughts?" Yuugi questioned, uncomfortable with the idea of   
his every thought becoming exposed to someone he'd only just met.  
  
Yami shook his head. "No, a mental link means that we can speak to one another   
using thoughts instead of voices. But we can keep other thoughts separate. I think   
some thoughts may slip through to start with because neither of us is used to this." He   
stared at Yuugi's drooping eyelids. "You should get some sleep."   
  
Yuugi nodded tiredly. Not bothering to change from his school clothes the teen lifted   
up the covers on his bed, crawling under them, still afraid of the vampire and staying   
in the same room as him.  
  
/I hope I'm not on the menu if he's hungry/  
  
"Don't worry you're not" Yami whispered, fully aware that that particular thought   
wasn't supposed to reach him. Like he had said- he had no desire to kill the innocent   
child. He moved over to the window, opening it before sticking his head out. Spotting   
a ledge a few meters below the said window, the vampire jumped out of it, landing on   
the slated ledge. Standing up straight he gazed around at the shadowed houses and   
buildings.   
  
Breathing in the deep night air, Yami launched himself from the ledge, landing   
swiftly on the paved road. Taking a quick glance at his location, the vampire ran   
down the road with unnatural speed. The hunt for prey was on.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
He walked quickly down the alley, coarse brown hair bouncing as he went. He   
glanced back over his shoulder, hazel eyes searching. Concluding that nothing was   
there, he continued down the back alley.  
  
Stomach gaining an uneasy sentient, the man jumped when something crashed in   
front of him. Halting, the brunette listened intently. "Last time you go out this late at   
night" he muttered to himself. Turning he jumped when he came face to face with a   
youth.  
  
"Yes, it is" the man had no time to shout as two sharp teeth plunged into his artery.   
  
Blood lust filled Yami's body as the hot life giving liquid flowed down his throat.   
Drinking hungrily, the vampire took the last of the brunette's vitality before dropping   
the drained body on the ground. Blood tasted so much sweeter when it was fear   
ridden. Scarlet tongue ran over stained fangs as he walked away, his business finished   
in the silent alley.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Walking down an unlit street, Yami's keen hearing picked up voices not far ahead.   
Unfazed, the youth continued to walk heading towards the noise.  
  
Turning a corner Yami spotted the source of the voices, a group of around 6 boys on   
the opposite side of the road. As the vampire walked, a member of the crowd saw   
him, immediately running over the hushed street with the rest.  
  
Circling around Yami, they forced him to stop. "What we got ere then?" the first boy   
questioned, a lopsided grin planted on his face.  
  
"Something you can't handle" Yami smirked, crimson eyes blazing.   
  
A second figure grabbed the upper half of his arm. "Looks like we gotta tough one"   
the blond sneered. The look immediately vanished as a fist flew up and connected   
with his nose. Blood squirted out, dribbling from the broken nose. The guy yelled in   
agony, letting go of Yami as he held his swelling part.  
  
"You wanna play it rough do ya? We'll show you da colour of ya insides when we're   
finished with you" the first snarled angrily.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Yami gave him a bemused look. "Not before I show you the   
colour of yours. Why don't we play my game? It'll be better."  
  
Some of group were becoming unnerved by the strange youth's brutal confidence.   
The first refused to let it show. "What kinda game?"  
  
"It's a game I like to call Snap Two Three. Rules are simple but I'll give you a   
demonstration to help you out" before any of the group could even blink, the _game_   
started. Grabbing the blond with the broken nose, Yami took hold of the sides of his   
head, twisting it viciously whilst chanting "Snap Two Three." He continued through   
the group, chanting the same three words as he listened to the satisfying snap of their   
necks as he dropped their broken forms. Lastly he went to the teen that had spotted   
him first. Taking his head, Yami twisted and pulled, chanting his words, smiling at the   
loud crack and rip as he pulled the youth's head clean off his shoulders. Smiling into   
the face, which was still frozen in shock, Yami concluded with two words as he threw   
the useless head back a top the limb body; watching the blood seep out onto the   
already stained clothes.  
  
"Game over."  
  
Snap Two Three started and finished within a matter of seconds.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Yuugi woke to the shrill sound of his alarm clock dragging him from a peaceful sleep.   
Tiredly, he waved his hand knocking the clock from his bedside table onto the floor;   
halting the annoying sound. Sitting up, he yawned looking around.  
  
/Was everything last night just a dream?/  
  
//`Fraid not. Everything happened just as you remember//  
  
The teen looked around trying to find the vampire, unsure if he was glad that Yami   
wasn't in the room. Sliding out of bed, he noticed the open window.   
  
/Where are you?/  
  
//Outside//  
  
Looking out of the window, Yuugi saw no sign of Yami. Turning his head he looked   
up at the roof, noticing the pair of boots swinging back and forth. "What are you   
doing up there?" he shouted.  
  
A head stuck out, looking down at the teen. "Thinking" came the systematic reply.  
  
"Well do you mind coming down?" Yuugi inquired. He brought his head in sharply as   
the vampire jumped from the rooftop down onto the ledge below the window, ending   
his task by springing gracefully into the open gap. "I thought vampires couldn't go   
out in daylight" Yuugi mumbled.  
  
"Who told you that? I'm really going to have to see where you get all that crap from.   
Daylight doesn't do anything to us, though technically we do prefer night to day"   
Yami explained indignant at the comment. He watched as Yuugi pulled his white shirt   
off, wincing as it aggravated his shoulder. "Let me take a look at that" Yuugi watched   
as Yami's warm fingers examined the bruising on his shoulder. "It's not too bad-   
you'll live."  
  
As Yuugi made his way down to the kitchen, the vampire stepped in front of him.  
"Where're you going?"  
  
"School" Yuugi answered, picking up his school bag and dropping it on one of the   
counters.  
  
"I don't want you leaving here" Yami remarked watching as the teen started making   
some toast. Toast making halted as Yuugi looked up at the cold-faced vampire.  
  
"Look, if I don't go it's gonna be more suspicious than if I do go" he reasoned   
resuming his original task.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"You want some toast?" Yuugi wasn't even sure if the vampire ate solid food.   
  
Yami pulled a wry face. "No. I've already eaten." He watched as Yuugi turned at this   
comment, fear flashing in his amethyst eyes before going back to their original state.   
"You must not tell anyone about this, especially about me being a vampire. Not even   
your closest friends."  
  
Yuugi watched as the toast popped up, pulling it out of the toaster; dropping it on the   
breadboard. "I won't" he looked down at Yami's hand as it grasped his arm,   
frightened by the strong hold. He turned his violet gaze up to meet the deep crimson   
one.  
  
"Promise me."  
  
"I promise I won't tell anyone" Yuugi insisted watching as the vampire's hand left his   
arm. He breathed a sigh of relief before returning to his toast.  
  
Yami leaned back against a gleaming white counter, gazing round the tidy room.   
"Don't you live with anyone?"  
  
"Yeah I live with Jiichan, but he's away on a business trip in America at the moment"   
Yuugi explained biting into his toast, chewing quickly. "Do you know how you got   
here?"   
  
Yami stood silently trying to list some ideas mentally. "I don't know but I'll be   
damned if I don't find out how I can get back. If I don't get back soon, someone is   
going to take my position when they think I've left."  
  
Yuugi didn't have much of an idea of what the vampire meant by the last part.   
Shrugging off the thought, he grabbed his schoolbag slipping his sneakers on. "I'll be   
back this afternoon. There's a library a couple of blocks away if you need it. School's   
just past there," Yuugi explained. Heading to the door he walked out, half relieved to   
be away from the cold vampire.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Jou smiled as he saw Yuugi running down the street towards him. "Late getting up   
agin?"  
  
Yuugi smiled as he slowed to a walk beside the blond. "No, this morning was fairly   
organised."  
  
Jou raised an amused eyebrow as he inspected the shorter teen's half-tucked in shirt,   
unruly hair and undone sneakers. "Is that what you call it?" he laughed grinning at   
Yuugi's small pout.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
By midmorning Yami was getting frustrated. He had searched most of the house   
looking for any sign of how he had ended up on Earth. Eventually he gave up, telling   
himself he would resume his search later. Heading out of the building via the back   
door he wandered down the street in search of the library Yuugi had mentioned.  
  
The differences this world had with his own, proved overwhelming for the vampire.   
Small things to most people- electricity, computers, none of it existed in the Shadow   
world. Only magic.  
  
Reaching the next road, the vampire saw a colossal building loom up. As he got closer   
he found it to be the Library he was looking for. Walking calmly up the steps he   
entered the building.   
  
"Can I help you?"   
  
Yami looked over as a feminine voice addressed him. The first thing he looked at was   
her neck, smooth skin hiding the telltale artery. Ripping his hungry gaze up he met   
her soft sapphire eyes. "I'm looking for books on vampires and ancient artefacts" he   
replied, his eyes wandering back down to her neck.  
  
The receptionist ignored the fact that he kept watching her neck as she searched on a   
computer. "Vampires and the supernatural are up those stairs and on the right, ancient   
artefacts are on the same floor on the left" she located them, pointing to their left. He   
nodded a thanks and walked off towards the stairway.  
  
~ Supernatural my ass ~  
  
Blocking angry thoughts from his mind, Yami ran an index finger over book covers as   
he read the titles. Eventually he pulled out several before making he way to the   
artefacts area; where he extracted several more books.   
  
Finding an empty table he set the pile of books down, taking the first and opening the   
aged musty cover.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"You feeling ok Yuug?" Jou asked noticing yet another yawn coming from the spiky   
haired teen.  
  
"Hai. Just a bit tired that's all. I didn't sleep too well last night" Yuugi murmured   
closing his eyes as he lay on the soft grass. It was currently their lunch break, the   
morning's lessons over. He was out in the ground of Domino High with Jou, Honda   
and Anzu, the hot sun beating down on the petite group; all unaware of the eyes that   
watched them.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Yami sat on one of the school's rooftops overlooking the group as they lounged   
around. His cold crimson eyes stared intently at Yuugi's every movement. They   
admired his angelic face as he laughed at some unheard joke, watching tired eyelids   
droop ever so slightly; giving him a sleepy appearance.   
  
Though the vampire had only known him for a short while, Yami felt somehow   
connected to the small teen, besides their obvious mental link. He felt a strong urge to   
protect the Hikari, unlike anything he had ever felt before.   
  
Standing, Yami pushed the thoughts away as he made his way across the rooftops,   
heading back to the Turtle Games Shop.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Returning to Yuugi's room, Yami looked around still looking for an answer as to how   
he had come to this world. He had already found the answer about the pyramid he   
wore. The Millennium Puzzle. A 5000 year old solid gold artefact from Egypt,   
wherever that was.  
  
Eyes searching the room they finally landed on Yuugi's overly disorganised desk.   
Walking over he picked up a large worn book, already open at a specific page.   
Keeping his finger in the said page, Yami looked at the aged cover he noticed it held   
the same mark as that of his Puzzle. A Sennen Eye.   
  
Turning back to the original page, Yami uttered a bewildered cry as he found the page   
talking of his world, the Shadow world.  
  
"So this is how I got here" he muttered, eye scanning over the spell based on the page.   
Looking up, he frowned slightly. "Wait a minute. If that says of my world and how to   
transport anyone from it, there must be a page saying how to get back there."  
  
Flicking over the page, Yami scanned the words before looking to the next yellow   
page. "Aha!" he mumbled triumphantly, finger stamping down on the spell.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"Why didn't you tell me about that book earlier?"   
  
Yuugi jumped startled as Yami jumped down beside him as he walked along the   
deserted pavement.  
  
"What book?" he inquired, slightly uncertain. He watched as the vampire's eyes   
darted from place to place, studying everything and anything.  
  
"The ancient one on your desk. The one with the Sennen Eye on it" Yami answered,   
eyes returning to Yuugi's gentle face.  
  
The freshman shrugged. "I dunno. I just didn't think about it. Why? Did that bring   
you into this world? Did you find anything out about the pyramid?"  
  
"The book did bring me here. The pyramid is known as the Millennium Puzzle, a   
5000 year old artefact from somewhere called Egypt. There are 6 other items like it,   
the Tauk, Ankh, Ai, Rod, Ring and Scale. They were used to seal something called   
the Shadow Games. The Millennium Puzzle gives us the mental link and shows a   
joining of Hikari and Yami, Light and Dark" Yami explained as they neared the   
Games Shop.   
  
Yuugi gnawed his lower lip, a question swaying in his mind. Finally he gained the   
courage to ask it. "Do you know anything about seven people being murdered?"   
  
"Maybe."  
  
"One from severe blood lose, five from broken necks and the last…" Yuugi   
swallowed before concluding, "had his head ripped off."  
  
When Yami gave no answer, but continued walking up the stairs, Yuugi followed   
him. "You do know about it don't you? You did that!"  
  
Yami whirled aggressively, crimson eyes blazing like red fire. "I have to maintain   
myself just like every other bugger! Like the books I read said: I'm a brutal and   
vicious killer. Something I can't change right now! Life's war and every war has it's   
casualties!"   
  
Tears welled in Yuugi's fearful violet eyes, causing part of the vampire's heart to melt   
at the sight. "But why seven? Why could you kill them and not me?"  
  
Yami sighed, turning away. "I don't know, I just…couldn't. The only way to save the   
people in this world _from_ me is for me…and you to go back to my world."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
End notes:  
  
FC: umm…Zoo is my muse out of the toilet yet?  
  
Zoo: nope ^^()  
  
Eevee Muse: *looking pretty green* can't blame her…..  
  
FC: -.- it wasn't that bad! Just because someone had their head ripped off!  
  
Flareon Muse: *appears* urgh  
  
Eevee Muse: you ok now?  
  
Flareon Muse: Yeah…  
  
Zoo: ok so the next chapter's my turn on yet another completely different character   
^^()   
  
FC: it will join up eventually, I think….  
  
Flareon Muse: you do?  
  
FC: well I'm not sure…*catches drift* o.O;; hey! I do think, thank-you very much!   
  
Zoo: please review!!!  
  
All four: ^____^ 


	4. Enter the Yami

Author's notes:   
  
Disclaimer: Zoo-chan does not own Yu-gi-oh!   
  
Also, permission to use the wolf idea in the Yu-gi-oh fanfic section was granted by Atarashii-san, who inspired   
me with her "Thy Hands of Fate" (which she NEVER updates!!), as well as Star-chan's werewolf fics. For the   
vampires, I got permission to use the Yami/Yuugi type of vampire pairing from Madame Ruby, from her "Passion   
and Blood". Darkwolves are my OWN creation, and no one can use them without my permission!   
BWAHAHAHAHAHA- *coughs*  
  
Rhetorical reminder note: I am doing WEREWOLVES, not vampires. Ryou Bakura and Yami Bakura (who is   
named simply "Bakura") are separate people. For stupid conventional purposes, I have named Yami Malik   
"Ishtar". -_-;;; I think it's a girl's name….   
  
  
ERG!!! I had to chop off two pages to fic the R rating!! *seethes* Okay.. the ending is choppy because this fic is no longer a NC-17. *sighs*  
  
***************************************************  
  
"Excuse me – who are you?"   
- Perfect Blue  
  
*************************************************  
  
  
Chapter 4 – Enter the Yami  
  
  
"Death!"  
  
The sentence roared out, ringing amidst the roar of voices in the crowd.   
  
Bakura bowed his head, letting the two guards take him, not even daring to struggle. It was hopeless   
anyway. Darkwolves, though separated by their differences in packs, had a unique bond with each other; an   
extrasensory ability able to sense the well-being of other packs.   
  
That had been Bakura's downfall. Only minutes after the bloody slaughter, a nearby Darkwolf pack had   
chanced to fall upon the scene of carnage. They had sensed something wrong in the first place, and upon   
analyzing the decapitated and grossly contorted bodies, their worse fears were confirmed in a matter of seconds.   
As for Bakura, they had dragged the strangely pacified Darkwolf to be sentenced by the Council members.   
  
No one noticed how Bakura didn't struggle. They all thought he was awed, intimidated by the power of   
the Council. If the situation hadn't been so serious, the silver Darkwolf would have laughed a long and hard laugh,   
full of contempt and vehemence. Oh, the irony of things!  
  
And since all evidence of Bakura's innocence was dead or simply absent, the silver Darkwolf had no way   
of proving himself otherwise. In the eyes of the jeering and angry Darkwolves watching the sentencing, Bakura   
was a dangerous murderer who had not only killed his pack in an angry frenzy, but had also killed the leader of   
another pack, Malik. Though some of the Darkwolves had the brains to wonder what Malik was doing in the   
scene, others simply reasoned that Malik, a close friend of Bakura's, was passing by that night, and had tried to   
stop the silver Darkwolf from killing any more innocents.   
  
Again, Bakura would have snorted in derision. Innocents. Feh. No one believed the words of a murderer.   
Especially a murderer currently sentenced to death.   
  
Bakura had expected that. He flickered his ears to block out the snarls and hoots, fixating his intense   
baleful eyes to stare at the crowd. For a moment, the crowd fell silent; shuffling uncomfortably under the "mass   
muderer's" glare. Then, the silver Darkwolf broke the gaze, turning once again to directly face the Council   
members. He had always had an apprehension for these powerful figures, and had tried to avoid them at all costs.   
It really was amazing how many promises and barriers could be broken in a single night.   
  
He faced, fearless and undaunted, the pairs of burning regal eyes watching him. Fur matted in a mixture   
of dried blood and dirt, the silver Darkwolf was all too aware of the contempt they had for him; not only for his   
reputation but image. He could feel a sneer work on his snout, but it came out as a low, barely audible growl.   
"So be it." Bakura stated, voice clipped and still wonderful restrained. "I do not fear death."  
  
The Council Leader, an imposing jet-black Darkwolf who had ruled over the others for a good thirty   
years, found himself curious at the reaction. Why did the condemned Darkwolf not struggle and fight like an   
enraged beast? Most of them would have been reduced to a primal stupor by now, mouth frothing, and eyes   
rolling insanely. Yet, there was no sign of this in the condemned Darkwolf. There was something that oddly   
reminded him of defeat, that oddly voiced to him that perhaps, just perhaps, this silver Darkwolf was innocent.   
Shaking his long, black muzzle, the Darkwolf Council Leader cleared away these irrelevant thoughts.   
"Your death shall be in exactly two hours from now," He proclaimed, voice echoing clearly for all to   
hear, "Though I find myself at the lenient end, considering how you treated Malik, whom I believe was once a   
good friend of yours."  
  
  
"Lenient?" Another Council member snorted, face filled with disgust, "He _killed_ Malik. He purposely   
killed his best friend – someone who had looked after him. I would say this is an outrage!" The Darkwolf   
speaking turned his grizzled snout towards Bakura in contempt. "Never before have I seen such a breach of   
protocol. That _someone_ would be desperate and jealous enough to kill your best friend just for that bit of   
revenge? Pathetic."  
  
Several other voices from the crowd piped up, encouraged by the Council leader's stinging remark.   
  
"Go rot in hell, you bastard!"  
  
"Die, you piece of Darkwolf shit!"  
  
"I hope that they make you die slowly!"  
  
"How could you _betray_-"  
  
And then, Bakura snapped. A good one-hundred-and-thirty pounds of Darkwolf flesh suddenly lunged   
itself towards the jeering crowd, propelled by heavy paws digging furiously against the ground. He was   
immediately restrained with a set of chains, carefully monitored by the two guards surrounding him. Enraged, the   
silver Darkwolf continued to press his strength against his confines, his actions rewarded when several of the   
lighter cords around his feet began to snap and buckle weakly. However, the thick metal chains around his neck   
simply dug deeper into his flesh, scoring new wounds across his chest and shoulders. Bakura continued to snarl   
and rage, baring his fangs snap them several times in desperate rage. How dare those others mock him? He was   
_innocent_ - he had tried to protect Malik! What would the others know about Malik anyway? None of them had   
witnessed the scene, and none of them could even guess at the truth.   
  
Just thinking about that simple fact boiled the silver Darkwolf's blood to an intolerable heat. Anger rising   
ever so steadily, Bakura continued to growl and thrash against his confines. There was a telltale glimmer of   
insanity plastered in his eyes, his mouth beginning to froth and foam wildly while his paws clawed against his   
restraints.   
  
The two guards, each one twice the height of the prisoner, easily suppressed Bakura's struggles,   
chuckling dully as they watched the silver Darkwolf fight a losing battle.   
  
Upon realizing that they were no longer threatened, the crowd began to laugh and jeer once more at   
Bakura's helplessness in front of the Council. They laughed and pointed paws and fingers alike at the prisoner in   
the center, laughing at his so easily restrained rage. To them, he looked like a puppet, will all too evident on his   
face, though the strings holding him at bay quickly manipulated his actions. None of them noticed the anger, pain,   
and suffering in the puppet's eyes, and most of all, the chains cutting the beautiful silver fur, matting it with a   
thick scarlet which dribbled and fell like droplets of rain onto the dry sandy dirt.   
  
All Bakura saw was a whirl of faces. The laugher, jesting, hoots, and cries became a single chaotic blur   
of sounds, digging like a thick nail into his skull to reverberate painfully through each of his senses. The colours   
were just as jagged; just as horribly painful as they clawed gleefully at the silver Darkwolf's vision, filling it with   
mocking hate. And most of all, helplessness.   
  
Even as Bakura continued to struggle and fight weakly, he knew that he was doomed. He was helpless in   
the hands of the Council. And most of all, no one _cared_. For why would anyone care about the murderer?   
There was only anger now. A persistent rage colouring his entire vision scarlet, gouging a deep trail of   
pain and internal agony deep into his emotions. Damn them all! Damn all of them for not being able to see the   
truth, for leading such blind, pathetic lives. All they ever did was stupidly mimic the actions of the other, blindly   
laughing for no reason. They laughed and agreed to a lie!   
  
The assholes.   
  
Encouraged by the jeers of the crowd, the two stoic guards' faces took on a sneer. They began to jerk the   
shackled chains painfully, causing the silver Darkwolf's legs to buckle, entire body collapsing ungainly against   
the ground. Again and again they pulled the same stunt, waiting until Bakura clambered angrily on to his paws   
before once again depriving him of his dignity. The crowd hooted with laughter, noise never dying but rising as   
they continued to watch the vigorously struggling Darkwolf like an entertainment.   
  
Yes. Bakura was an _entertainment_. He was as good as dead anyway. His body quivered uncontrollably,   
chest rising and falling in tentative gasps. His entire body was caked in grime, and the once-healed scars had split   
open, pouring out layers of delicate crimson along his tarnished dull-silver hide. And, the crowd still laughed.   
Laughed because the silver Darkwolf struggled; struggled to prove a hidden innocence none could see.   
  
"Stop!"  
  
A single voice rang out from the crowds.   
  
Suddenly, the screams and wild shouts retreated, as did the pain and inflicted agony. Bakura now found   
himself standing in a sea silence. The silver Darkwolf's body still buckled and shook with fatigue, though he hid   
his exhaustion with a permanent glare of anger and denial. Mustering his last dregs of energy, he stood, stature   
proud and defiant.   
  
From the silence came a patter of soft footsteps. At first, they were only vague whispers, but eventually   
grew into a steady tapping paw-beats. As the figure approached the Bakura, several voices in the crowd began   
murmuring frantically, conspiring in a excited, scared whisper. Even the Council had not stirred since the figure's   
arrival.   
  
She was an ordinary looking Darkwolf, the only exceptional feature possibly her bleached golden fur.   
And even then, her figure was still small, almost too small for her age. Yet, there was something about this   
Darkwolf; something that was able to silence each Darkwolf with a single look and leaves the weaker ones   
trembling in its wake.   
  
She was a Seer. Only once per century was a Seer born, each one living to an exceptional age. Unlike the   
other Darkwolves, every Seer was born blind, blank silver eyes a proof of their status. They were unlike the   
others: distant, highly intelligent, and often, aloof. And yet, the power they possessed was unthinkable. It was a   
power strong enough even to rival the infamous Vampire Sages, but, like the Sages, they kept their code both   
neutral and silent.   
  
"Isis." Finally, the Council Leader addressed the Sage for whom she was. "Why have you come here?" It   
was very rare for a Sage to attend any ceremony, more so the trial of a murderer.   
  
The pale-gold Darkwolf, Isis, bowed her head slightly, showing her respect towards the Elders. "I have   
come here to clear up some misconceptions." She finally said, voice quiet, though ringing across the entire arena.   
  
Bakura was shocked. He felt the tension and anger suddenly leave his once-taut muscles as he stared at   
this strange Darkwolf.   
  
Isis turned her blank eyes to glance sympathetically at the silver Darkwolf. She then once more faced the   
Council, though her voice addressed everybody. "Yes, Bakura did kill his own Pack, but he was provoked by his   
kinsman. They had wrongfully betrayed him, and had initially started the fight. In order to protect himself, Bakura   
had to fight back." Blank eyes sifted through the crowds, drawing several nervous shuffles. "Now I ask you – is it   
wrong? Is it wrong to protect yourself? Or would you rather die at the feet of those who betrayed you?"  
  
There was a moment of silence before another Council leader piped up. "What about Malik? What do   
you have to say for him?"  
  
A chorus of whispers suddenly rippled through the crowds. They were immediately hushed by a single   
look from the Seer.   
  
Isis sighed, bowing her pale-gold muzzle. "I, out of all people, should testify to the rights of my blood-  
brother, Malik. True, he was cruelly slaughtered that night, but not by Bakura. It had been one of the rebellious   
members of Bakura's pack which had ended up killing Malik."  
  
However, Isis was still hard pressed. "Don't you feel any anger though? Even if Bakura had not killed   
Malik, he had failed to protect your brother from his own pack. Isn't that a lack of control for a Pack-leader?"  
  
Again, Isis shook her head. "I feel no anger but sorrow. How can you accuse someone of not being able   
to predict the turbulent emotions of another? Even though we might have packs, our minds and spirits are still   
equal. Is that not enough?"  
  
For a moment, the Council seemed stirred by the Seer's speech. However, their resolve wavered, before   
breaking into a rustle of debating voices.   
  
"We shall judge accordingly to this new piece of information." The Council Leader finally said. There   
was no accusing of false information; it was a given fact that Seers knew anything and everything they wanted to   
– to them, hidden knowledge was simply a menial task to find, no harder than searching foraging for a certain   
berry or turning over a specific rock.   
  
Bakura's body trembled with exhaustion as he struggled to keep his aloof stance. Sure, the others were   
currently debating about his very life, but the silver Darkwolf simply did not care anymore. Live and what? Be   
alone and pack-less, with a heavy burden of shame staining his reputation? Even the prospect of death looked   
better than that. And yet, there was that part of him which did not want to die. It struggled against its confines,   
telling him to continue fighting and survive no matter what. Swayed by both emotions, Bakura simply stood and   
watched as the Council Leader finally rose to determine his fate.   
  
"Even with this new information, Seer, we cannot live with a murderer in our hands." The grizzled grey   
Darkwolf proclaimed. "Even more, Bakura has proven to be a weak pack leader, unworthy of being a Darkwolf."  
  
Unworthy. That single word burned deeply into the silver Darkwolf's mind like a brandish. He was   
_useless_ and most of all, a disgrace. The jeering voices came back again, and this time, not even Isis was able to   
stop them.  
  
"So, we lower the sentence of death and send him, instead, to exile." The Council Leader finished, voice   
resolute.   
  
The crowd fell silent for a moment before a few surprised gasps and murmurs rang out. To exile? But   
where? Half the Shadow World was claimed to be Darkwolf territory, and the other dominated by Vampires. No   
Darkwolves dared stray to the Vampire Realm without fearing their death.   
  
Again, Isis spoke her mind. "I know of a new land, ruled neither by Darkwolves nor Vampires. If you   
would let me, I will arrange for Bakura to be exiled there."  
  
The Council Leader gave the Seer a puzzled look. "Then, this world you speak of, is it isolated?"  
  
Isis shook her head. "No. Those who live there are called _humans_. They resemble our others selves,   
the selves which do not fight and dominate but search for intelligence and progress." To prove her point, the light-  
gold furred Darkwolf began to meld forms until she stood upright on two legs, skin smooth and tanned, ebony hair   
veiled by a long cloak. "However, these humans are without Magick or power, and would easily be crushed by an   
invading force."  
  
"Then why do you propose for Bakura to be sent there?" The Council leader was more intrigued than   
defiant.   
  
"Because of this." From her long pale-white dress, she pulled out a beautiful golden pendant. It was   
overall etched in a circular pattern, a triangle displayed in the center, its flat face etched with a strange golden   
rune. Beneath the lower halves of the circle's brim hung several cold-shaped trinkets. "Though its true nature has   
been defied for centuries, this Millennium Ring is able to confine Darkwolf power. Thus, if Bakura was sent to the   
human world, he would be no stronger than any ordinary human. All his Darkwolf senses, sights, smells, and   
perceptions would be lost as long as he wore the Ring. Strangely enough, once the Ring has found an owner, it   
can never be removed again until death."  
  
Upon hearing those words, Bakura's pacified expression twisted into a snarl. To lose his entire Darkwolf   
side would be like cutting of his legs and expecting him to run! It was uncalled for – a fate which skinned off any   
remaining pride.   
"Forget it." Bakura spat, voice acidic and hateful. He had thought that Isis would find a reasonable   
solution. He had not accounted for her to be so demeaning. "I don't need your stupid pity. If you want to kill me,   
then get on with it." The silver Darkwolf sneered, upper lip curling in disdain. "And I especially don't need help   
from any _Seer_."  
  
Isis remained undisturbed. A smile played on her lips. "I had expected that, coming from you. Malik has   
always told me how stubborn you are."  
  
However, Bakura was beyond reasoning. He began to snarl and thrash with renewed efforts, flinging his   
weight angrily against his confines. Now, he vented his anger at the girl standing in front of him, eyes flashing   
maniacally.   
  
And the others laughed. The all too familiar jeering and hooting once again was aroused a maximum, the   
crowd this time finding pleasure in the silver Darkwolf's refusal. They laughed, encouraging Isis, egging the   
Council to carry out the sentence.   
  
It was all just a game. A silly display they had all come out to watch. And upon seeing Bakura struggle   
even harder as the Ring was forced upon his neck, they laughed harder.   
  
The moment the Ring slid over his head, Bakura felt as if he had been pressed by a heavy iron weight.   
Just the cold metal biting into his fur was enough to send shivers echoing through his spine. And suddenly, the   
silver Darkwolf felt something unexplainable. It was if the Ring was _aware_ of what he was doing, and was   
looking around in analyzation, tearing into his very fabric of mind in inquisition. In just seconds, the Ring was   
done its search. From the cold metal pulsated a powerful Magick, spreading to every tissue and vein in the silver   
Darkwolf's body.   
  
Bakura roared in agony. It was as if someone had stuck tiny needles into his every vein, pressing down   
harder when he struggled. His body quivered numbly with pain, allowing the Magic from the Ring to do its work   
accordingly. Bakura struggled helplessly as he felt his body shift and re-assemble itself. Once again, the coarse fur   
shriveled and disappeared, leaving only a thick mane of hair in its memory. Clothing seemed to scatter from the   
air and reassemble itself while the powerful lupine muscles simply faded to leave a trembling, weak, body. One   
by one, each sense evaporated, Bakura once again surrounded by a blur of almost indistinguishable senses. His   
blunt nails shifted to slender digits, and his body rose, standing erect in an uncertain manner.   
  
Now fully human, Bakura felt his body sag weakly, shoulders drooping in exhaustion. With a final   
buckle, his legs gave in so that he collapsed like a pile of stones onto the ground. He could feel himself struggling   
to keep his eyes open and fight in rage, but nothing came out save a desire to sleep.   
  
  
******************************************  
  
Earth, 2000 AD  
  
It is often within that bubble of thought between unconsciousness and reality that one begins to question   
their purpose in life. Surely enough, the purpose _of_ life was to discover the purpose of life, in which case, the   
infinite cycle would be a resolve in itself. Yet, what was one's purpose in life?  
  
… To be understood?  
  
Even half dreaming, Bakura highly doubted that. There was no pity. There was no such thing as   
righteousness or justice or resolve. Life was bitter and his purpose was as insignificant as a fly on a cattle's rump.   
  
He had no purpose. His animus was to writhe in the depths of chaos, spirit permanently contorted in   
agony.   
  
… Was it really too much to wish for oblivion?  
  
A sudden, jolting pain woke the former Darkwolf from his reverie. Upon instinct, Bakura immediately   
narrowed his eyes and snarled, temporarily forgetting his newly restrained weakness. It wasn't until the white-  
haired youth tried to shapeshift that he realized what exactly had happened. His body would not obey, and instead,   
quavered and trembled weakly. The Ring around his chest bit into his skin like burning iron.   
  
Bakura's expression dropped in intensity, the snarl allaying to a half-frown, though his eyes still burnt   
with anger. Yet, even those collapsed to a dismal droop as he regarded the sight in front of him with his feeble   
human eyes.   
  
He was in a damp, narrow path, infested with putrid smells and piles of spoiled garbage. Twin walls of   
unbroken concrete protruded from either sides of the path a narrow light glimmered vaguely at some distant point   
to mark the exit.   
  
In other words, Bakura was trapped.   
  
There were at least seven of them, huddled close to each other, though their vacant, leering faces   
immediately erased any implication they might have displayed of fear. Implanted on each of the dirty, torn faces   
was a jagged smirk or a half-amused frown.   
  
Their leader was indefinitely the stolid figure in the center. He had a handsome face, currently half-  
shrouded by the shadows he stood beneath.   
  
Something ticked off in Bakura's mind as if to recall a past memory of this gang-leader. But, as fast as it   
came, it disappeared, leaving only emptiness and a foreboding vision of fear.   
  
Bakura had not spent his entire life cowering and whimpering. He had been a pack leader, and as painful   
as the memory was, he still knew how to act like one. Imprinted into his mind for so many countless years was the   
basic pattern of survival – the rules that singled his skills and allowed his superiority over the others. Even   
weaponless and unable to use his shapeshifting Magick, Bakura was still a skilled fighter. And even now, body   
feebly trembling, he was determined to fight until his last breath.   
The outcast Darkwolf braced his weary body against the figures, deep brown eyes daring them to make a   
move.   
  
Only the bottom half of the gang-leader's face was enshrouded, and now, said person's mouth curved   
into a sadistic smile.   
  
"Well, look who's finally awake."  
  
Bakura involuntarily backed away as the ringleader approached him. There was something powerfully   
intimidating about this single person; something almost reverent. Perhaps it was because this menacing gang-  
leader reminded Bakura of the leader he could never be. He was an outcast, so why should it matter what   
happened to him?  
  
Bakura mentally berated himself. He would survive, dammit! Past and future no longer concerned him;   
all that mattered was _now_. And now, he needed to survive. The former Darkwolf half-arched his pack, setting   
his expression into the most intimidating glare he could muster.   
  
"Get away from me!" The words came out in a coarse half-growl.   
  
"Get away from me." The gang-leader mimicked in a mockingly falsetto voice. The others began to   
laugh and jeer, their chorus of low cries reminiscent of the past. And still then, Bakura was patient, holding in his   
temper to carefully watch and analyze his threats.   
  
The gang-leader began striding confidently until he was face to face with the outcast Darkwolf. Said   
person focused his pale sapphire eyes on Bakura, setting his hand so that it held Bakura's chin in a painful grip   
between the index finger and thumb.   
  
… And Bakura couldn't do a thing. He was paralyzed in shock. For, inches away from his face was not   
the sneering, handsome face of the gang-leader but the familiar expression of someone else.   
  
It was impossible. Bakura's mind raced through the possible excuses. It _couldn't_ be him; it _wouldn't_   
be him. Yet the dully shimmering golden hair and tanned skin was all too obvious.   
  
"Malik?" The words fell out of the outcast Darkwolf's mouth even before he could recollect his wits.   
  
However, the gang-leader only laughed, dropping his hold on Bakura's jaw. "Look! The little bitch   
thinks he knows me!"  
  
The fact that the others found this highly amusing only succeeded in angering Bakura further. How could   
Malik not recognize him? Wasn't he and Malik loyal partners? No – it was impossible. Malik couldn't betray   
him! It just wasn't possible!  
  
His mind had fallen once again into a pit of turmoil. And this time, there was no one else to comfort him,   
to pick him up and reassure him.   
  
"How could you betray me, Malik?" Bakura cried, voice cracking with unrestrained emotion. "How   
could you?!"  
  
And suddenly he was up and lunging at 'Malik's' sickenly superior face. A fist impacted against the   
gang-leader's jaw, causing an audible crack. Bakura withdrew his fist, gasping with exhaustion while watching   
'Malik' rub his bruised jaw.   
  
"Insane bitch!" The gang-leader spat, spitting out blood. He faced Bakura with an equally livid glare.   
"My name is Ishtar." The tone was almost too low to be audible. "And I'll make you regret every moment you   
mis-called me."  
  
"Liar!" Bakura snarled. There was no mistaking such a familiar person. His muscles tightened in a   
buildup of rage, blinding his logic and blurring his reason. "You _are_ Malik!" With a half-angry, half-desperate   
sob, the former Darkwolf lunged, swinging another clumsy blow at the gang-leader.   
  
This time, Ishtar blocked it easily. Without missing a beat, the gang-leader delivered a quick blow to   
Bakura's stomach, causing the former Darkwolf to buckle and collapse to his knees.   
  
Ishtar's eyes narrowed, one foot on Bakura's back to force the struggling Darkwolf face-down on the   
cement. The gang-leader's solemn pale sapphire eyes flickered with disdain and anger. "Never call me a liar."   
Satisfied with those words, Ishtar withdrew a thin, gleaming pocketknife from the folds of his cloak.   
  
Even buried face-down on the filthy cement floor, Bakura could see the dull gleam of the silver blade.   
The knife seemed to dance and come alive, inflamed by a million shards of undying memories. Mind roiling with   
both confusion and chaos, the white-haired youth began to scream, hoarse cries piercing the moment of abstained   
silence. His body thrashed with incredible vigour, brown eyes vacant and face bathed in a shadow of insanity.   
  
And still, he was easily restrained. Bakura could feel thick, coarse cords sliding across his arms and legs   
until they bit into his skin. He was easily outnumbered. Yet, even with his wrist and ankles cruelly bound, the   
outcast Darkwolf thrashed with desperate fury. In his mind's eye, he was not snarling at these shadowy henchmen   
but rather at the figures from his tragic past.   
  
He was raging at Ryu, screaming at the Council, snarling at Isis, and most of all, keeping his livid,   
fixated glare at Malik. Malik had done this all along! Malik had betrayed him!  
  
Now he could feel a layer of pungent fabric slipping over his head to cover his mouth. Now, he could   
only voice muffled, desperate cries, though they neither lost or diminished in fervour.  
  
They were mocking him again; jeering, laughing, roughly kicking the loser. And it was their chorus of   
delighted cries that bit into Bakura harder than the jagged cords and beatings.   
  
Or so, Bakura had thought.   
  
Ishtar watches his gang beat and mock the white-haired youth with no more than a bored flicker of   
sapphire eyes. He continued to gaze blankly at the scene until finally , he parted his crowd his a single word.   
  
"Enough."   
  
The others immediately stopped and backed away, some muttering reverent apologies.   
  
Yet, that was only to be expected. Behind that calm, beautiful, almost serene face lay a mastermind   
seething with sadism. Those who opposed him, even the toughest, hardiest fighters, often found themselves   
waking up with a knife between their eyes. And that was when Ishtar was in a light mood. There lay, within that   
single mind, every single method of agony, ear, torture, and humiliation, from hammering a million needles into a   
victim's skull to lacerating another with a razor-sharp whip. Ishtar was a mastermind in inflicting pain.   
  
Now, he watched the sobbing, raging figure in front of him. He noticed the numerous scares and newly   
reopened cuts running down the white-haired youth's back with a disappointed flicker of eyes.   
  
But Ishtar was the mastermind of pain. And pain came in many forms.   
  
  
When Darkwolves shifted from their lupine counterparts to a more stable, human form, their fur often   
melded into suitable clothing – perhaps a shirt and some pants. The material was always tough and stringy; the   
same fabric as their wolven pelts, and quite durable in almost any occasion.   
  
And Ishtar was not a patient person. Thumb pressed against the blade of his sharp pocketknife, the gang-  
leader stuck the knife forcefully into Bakura's back so that it easily pierced the tough shirt fabric. A pool of deep   
red begin to well and collect against the blade. Ishtar grinned as Bakura gasped in pain. With the blade of the   
knife still buried in the layer of flesh and fabric, the gang-leader shoved his hand up and against the protruding   
handle. The knife tore through the stringy fabric with liquid-ease, slicing a cruel path of scarlet blood in its wake.   
Ishtar continued tracing a path across Bakura's back with the knife, enjoying the helpless, almost terrified   
screams. He gouged every line in a perfect, precise pattern, drawing out the moment of intense pain to its   
maximum. The unbearable expression on the white-haired youth's face was proof enough of Ishtar's success.   
  
Finally, the pocketknife stopped. Bakura hissed as it slid out of from the flesh of his back with a drawn   
out, agonized jerk. Warm blood was dripping down his skin, his entire back throbbing with sharp pain. And still,   
he was restrained from lashing out; still bound tightly to the ground, forced to docility with no more dignity than a   
slave.   
  
Face still pressed against the dirty cement floor, eyes watering with hatred and agony, heart throbbing   
with rage and fear, Bakura found himself at the mercy of the other. He envisioned Malik's face leering at him   
from where the gang-leader stood.  
"Why?" It was a hoarse whisper. "Why, Malik, why?"  
  
One of the gang followers heard the whisper. "That's guy's damn crazy." The stereotypical not-so-bright   
henchman proclaimed.   
  
Ishtar snorted. His eyes began glowing a brilliant fiery sapphire. "The crazier they are… the harder they   
fall!"  
He stuck his hand onto Bakura's bloodied back, burying his fingers into the deeply gouged wound. There   
was a square perimeter of dark crimson etched onto the beautiful white skin marking the path of the cut. Fingers   
gushing with thick maroon liquid, Ishtar dug his nails deeper into the flesh until he held a perfect grip on the   
exposed, uncovered skin. With an unceremonious heave of his arm muscles, the gang-leader lifted his clenched   
hand, tearing apart a square layer of fabric from Bakura's back. The etched cut allowed the ringleader to tear apart   
an additional layer of skin and muscle tissue that stuck onto the lifeless fabric like a second layer. Now, there was   
a patch of raw, skinless flesh stretching from the brim of one rectangular perimeter to the other. A ridge of   
uncanny white bones protruded from the torn muscles and flesh, gleaming even until the magnificent spasm of   
freshly awakened blood. Bakura's pale white skin only accentuated the horrid injury; the mess of exposed muscle   
and tissue shook intermittently to the outcast Darkwolf's muffled sobs.   
  
And Ishtar laughed. He continued to chuckle maniacally, mouth contorted into a demonic grin, staining   
his cheeks with the blood. All the time, he admired his handiwork; admired the perfect layer of square flesh   
coveting the majority of the white-haired youth's back. The ripped off skin lay in Ishtar's clenched fist, the gang-  
leader glancing amusedly at the square piece of skin and fabric. Darkly comical, the ringleader crudely tied the   
square fabric and skin around Bakura's neck like a collar. He grinned, watching Bakura struggle.   
  
"Nice doggy!" Ishtar mocked, upon hearing the former Darkwolf's low, muffled growls. "Sit bitch!   
Heel!"  
  
The others began laughing again, cheering their leader on.   
  
Oh how Bakura wanted to kill them all! How much he wanted to rip the dripping, wet skin around his   
neck and tend to his burning back. Yet, his mind was a whirl of chaos; foreign and unusual emotions welling up to   
create a barrier of confusion. Where was he? Why was he here? Who… was he?  
  
… Even more, did it matter anymore?   
  
… Did it really?  
  
Ishtar dismissed the others, forcing them to back away so that he alone faced Bakura. The gang-leader   
approached the white-haired youth with a cruelly seductive gait. His sapphire eyes began gazing almost   
appreciatively at Bakura's torn body, admiring the well-built muscles and underneath the layer of tarnished   
clothing.   
  
The gang-leader allowed himself to be scrutinized by Bakura's own eyes, face twisted in a demonic grin   
as if daring the former Darkwolf to object. And suddenly, Ishtar lashed out at Bakura, still-bloodied fingers   
gripping deeply onto the white-haired youth's shirt to pull it off with an unceremonious flick of his wrist.   
  
The response was instantaneous. Immediately, the others began jeering, laughing, hooting, cheering their   
leader on.   
  
Ishtar ignored them and continued to fixate his gaze at Bakura. He hissed appreciatively at the bare body   
in front of him, standing like an alabaster statue. Well, a broken, slightly second-hand statue, but it still looked   
beautiful. And to Ishtar, all things beautiful were meant to be broken.   
  
The gang-leader was on Bakura in a blink of an eye, forcing the white-haired youth onto his back,   
straddling him by the knees. A single jerk of his well-tanned arm muscles and Ishtar had Bakura's belt undone,   
flailing the strip of grey leather into the air for the others to admire. He then pressed his hands against the white-  
haired youth's chest, feeling the cool, clammy ivory skin, still so vibrantly seething with energy. Oddly enough,   
the Ring around Bakura's neck remained forgotten. For only the beautiful _body_ was important – Bakura's   
raging, screaming, pleading face was forgotten to a greater cause.   
  
Next came the pants. Ishtar brought his hands down to his prey's waist, hooking his thumbs into the   
pants to slide the durable fabric down the thin, pale legs. He almost lost his concentration in delight. Quickly, like   
some corrupt, dirty ritual, Ishtar undid his belt, though the rest of his legs was still coveted by the faded blue   
jeans.  
  
Bakura whimpered, fingers gripping the pavement, attempting to draw his knees and tied elbows into a   
fetal position. It was useless. Ishtar was on him immediately, ruthlessly pelting the outcast Darkwolf with stinging   
belt-whip lashes. The gang-leader forcefully shoved the white-haired youth back onto the ground, prying Bakura's   
arms and legs apart. Bakura's exposed chest heaved in tight gasps, nude body glistening with unnatural ivory   
luminescence.   
  
Still wielding the whip-like belt in one hand, Ishtar moved his body onto Bakura's, sliding his neck at an   
awkward angle to rest his head forcefully on Bakura's chest. The jeers and hoots from the others became a   
cacophony of endless cries, stabbing into the outcast Darkwolf's ears like bloodied daggers.   
  
Ishtar quickly discarded the belt-whip, letting his other hand slip beneath Bakura's back to caress the   
bloodied tissue underneath. His other hand was at the white-haired youth's neck, preventing the other from   
screaming as Ishtar slid his tongue roughly over Bakura's pale chest, tracing slick, wet patterns over the bruised   
ivory surface, though careful to avoid the strange, dull, metal of the Ring. The gang-leader continued his caresses,   
moving his head so that his tongue slowly dribbled over Bakura's fragile neck, and then towards the chin. Now,   
both hands were pressed against Bakura's head; one over the forehead and the other at the cheek to stop   
white-haired youth from even moving his mouth. Bakura was virtually a _puppet_ under the gang-leader's power.   
  
A coarse tongue forced its path into Bakura's mouth. Bakura had experienced this feeling a million times   
over; yet, this was the only time he felt so violated. He was being _forced_ into pleasure, not the other way around.   
And it felt…   
  
Air! Bakura needed air! The horrible, vile, foreign tongue so openly exploring his mouth was cutting off   
his air supply, dampening Bakura's own needs with its greed. Finally, just when the sensation had become overly   
unbearable, Bakura was freed from the oppression, allowed to take deep gulps of air. Breaths of lifeless and stale   
air.  
  
Ishtar was moving again, now sliding his head against Bakura's so that both their ears were touching,   
faces pointing at opposite direction, necks pressing directly against the other. The gang-leader's set of warm,   
callous hands slithered across Bakura's bare chest, tracing the outlines of the ribs and then pelvis with pleasure.   
  
But Bakura was beyond caring. Lying against the ground in a pool of his own blood, the outcast   
Darkwolf paid no attention to the gang-leader abusing his body. He paid no attention to the infiltration of his own   
privacy, to the fact that someone had forced sexual pleasure onto him without his consent, or even warning. He   
was being raped, and he didn't care. Bakura let Ishtar continue the onslaught, his own face clammy and covered in cold sweat.   
  
And even then, at this extremity, Ishtar did not stop. The others were still crying and cheering, blatantly   
treating the violent rape like a game.   
  
The last thing Bakura remembered was Ishtar's body, hot and sweaty, still pressed against his own, both   
hands massaging their crotches while their bodies moved in forced synchronization.   
  
And then…..   
  
…  
…..  
  
…. What was there to remember?   
  
  
  
************************************************  
  
End notes:  
  
010100110100000101010100  
  
Can you figure out what this means? Anyway, that's what I'll be busy doing this (and no, its not sex!) the   
next couple of weeks, so updating will be slow.   
  
FC: *scratches head* I have no clue either.   
  
Zoo: ^_^= You're not supposed to. It's my secret computer language! BWAHAHAHAHAH!!!  
  
FC: *sweatdrop*  
  
Eevee muse: It was also on Neopets.   
  
Zoo: Shush! I have a reputation to keep up.   
  
FC: What reputation? Your idiocy?   
  
Zoo: *big teary eyes* It's not easy being an idiot. I have to go through a lot of work to maintain such a prominent   
reputation.  
  
Flareon muse: *rolls eyes* Why I even bother…  
  
FC: Aaaaaaanyway, please R & R! Actually, forget the reading part -_-;;; you can just review….  
  
Zoo: Hey! 


	5. Vampire High

Disclaimer: FC denies any claim that says she owns Yu-Gi-Oh!   
  
FC: ok so back we come to the Vamps ^^ I have to say I feel sorry for Bakura though   
  
Zoo: you do? I thought you didn't like him  
  
FC: I still feel for the guy, he's been through loads and he's only been in 2 chapters! I mean, his lover   
got killed, he's been exiled, his Darkwolf-ness has been taken and he gets raped!   
  
Zoo and Muses: o.O;;; you carry on feeling for him then….   
  
FC: ^^ anyways warnings are violence and some cursing.  
  
Enjoy peeps ^_~  
  
***********************************************************************************  
Last time with Yami and Yuugi:  
  
Yami whirled aggressively, crimson eyes blazing like red fire. "I have to maintain   
myself just like everything else! Like the books I read said: I'm a brutal and   
vicious killer. Something I can't change right now! Life's war and every war has it's   
casualties!"   
  
Tears welled in Yuugi's fearful violet eyes, causing part of the vampire's heart to melt   
at the sight. "But why seven? Why could you kill them and not me?"  
  
Yami sighed, turning away. "I don't know, I just…couldn't. The only way to save the   
people in this world _from_ me is for me…and you to go back to my world."  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
"If your whole body is full of light, with no part of it in darkness, it will be bright all over, as when a   
lamp shines on you with its brightness"  
- Luke Chapter 11 verse 36  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Chapter 5- Vampire High  
  
"I-I can't" Yuugi stepped back, away from the Vampire, violet eyes wide. Yami's dark crimson orbs   
glared down at him, shadowed face partially lit by the sun's dying rays flooding in through the kitchen   
window. Perfect canines glinted from under smooth lips.  
  
"What do you mean you can't? How the hell do you think I feel staying in a world like this?!" Yami   
shouted back, teeth clenched together, his jaw muscles tight.  
  
Yuugi didn't understand why he had argued the point- what was could be so different about the   
Shadow world? A strong feeling of dread, of unrestrained fear overtook his mind, almost blinding him   
with hidden panic. There was something _evil_ about the other world besides what lived there. Yuugi   
swallowed the feeling, letting it dwell in the pit of his stomach. "I-I don't know how it feels for you to   
be here, but I can't go to your world. What would happen if I just disappeared from this world? Could I   
even come back?"  
  
"I doubt it, but then, I have no idea. Believe what you will about my world but we will go back there"   
Yami growled, bloody eyes catching shards of light. He folded sinewy arms across a broad chest,   
keeping his temper under control. Did this inferior human think he could stop a vampire? Bah. It had   
never been heard of, not in any tale, myth or legend. Yami wasn't one to let it start.  
  
"I understand you want to go home, but this is _my_ home. If I have to go back with you, can't you   
wait just a few days? It's not likely that anything is going to happen back there over a few days" the   
child reasoned, amethyst eyes pleading with silent hope. Could vampires be completely cold? Or…was   
there some light in them, a faint flicker small enough to be snuffed out at a moment's notice?  
  
Something _did_ flicker in the vampire's eyes. It swept through them as a sudden rush pulled at a spot   
in his chest. Yami blinked, hoping nothing was seen. There was just _something_ about that face. It hid   
an innocence the vampire could never grasp, something that should be treasured, kept away from those   
who would seek to destroy it. Something about the look told him to give in, to let the human have his   
few days. But, what if something _did_ happen back in the Shadow world? If the vampires thought he   
had abandoned his role as their leader, not only would he lose his power through unfairness but he   
would be exiled; as to make sure he could never take the position again.  
  
Yami found himself divided. Half of him urged him to return now, to defend his position as King of   
Vampires, to keep his loyalty to that role. The other begged him to grant Yuugi's wish, to let him stay   
in his home world. But which was more important? His authority or his loyalty to his supposed Hikari,   
whom he had only met just a day before hand.  
  
Yami snapped from his thoughts to find himself in Yuugi's room, having unconsciously followed the   
youth there. He leaned against the bare wall behind him, Yuugi sitting at his desk, having left the   
vampire to decide on his proposal while he busied himself with his homework. Though it proved   
difficult.   
  
Yami wasn't the only one to feel divided.  
  
Yuugi found himself lost, unable to concentrate on the paper in front of him. He glanced over at the   
calm figure of Yami, one leg relaxed and bent at the knee, the other out straight pressing him against   
the wall. His arms remained crossed, as though defensive; blocking anything and everything. Crimson   
eyes were glazed over in thought until he blinked, letting them become clear. He raised them to Yuugi   
who turned away quickly from the stare.   
  
Half of Yuugi told him there was nothing to worry about, that he should trust the vampire. But how   
could he? He was a _vampire_ a child of the dark- not to be trusted by humans, but feared by them.   
Yet, amidst this cloak of reputed fear a glimmer of faith shone, like a tiny star hidden in the dark night   
sky. Could there be hope?  
  
The other half of the boy told him to keep his distance, to stay away from Yami, to fear and hate him,   
not to trust him. But what is life without trust? Why should someone not be treated the same as anyone   
else _just_ because they're different? The world was full of prejudice and discrimination, why add   
more? There wasn't any point.  
  
"We will stay here for three more days. Once they are over you must swear on your soul to come back   
with me."  
  
Yuugi looked up sharply at the vampire bewildered. He had agreed to stay for the few days? Vampires   
couldn't be completely cold hearted, not this one anyway and he was presumed to be the cruellest of   
the race. Only the cruellest could rule.  
  
By why must he swear upon his Soul? Wasn't that the essence of him, the life that gave him a will, a   
personality, a sense of decency? If he swore by that would it change him?  
  
The questions poured through Yuugi's mind until he blocked them, halting their insane rampage. "I   
swear on my soul I'll go back with you in three days" he whispered, mouth dry.  
  
And that was it. He had signed away his fate.   
  
Yami resumed the cold front he kept so well, the sheet of ice shielding any emotion he might have   
shown.  
  
But what was emotion?  
  
Among the vampire clans any emotions other than hate and rage were seen as weakness, a sign that the   
one harbouring them was insubstantial, an outcast haunted by feelings. Love most of all was seen as a   
great weakness, as was pity and mercy upon others. They were brutal and violent killers, mercy   
bestowed by them was almost a crime.   
  
Yet, were they really a weakness?  
  
Yami knew he could have gone back that very minute, making the short boy before him go through   
force. But something made him stop. He couldn't find the _heart_ to make him go. Was the King   
softening? Would he lose his reputation as a hardened killer by giving the innocent one what he   
wanted?  
  
Yami slapped himself mentally. Of course he wouldn't lose he reputation- none of the other vampires   
knew. They would never need to know. He just had to make sure that none of the newly found   
_weakness_ made it's way out to the bare exterior of the vampire.   
  
Yuugi threw his pencil down on his paper in frustration. No matter how hard he tried couldn't   
concentrate on the work set, his mind continued to linger back to the Shadow world.  
  
Finally he stood, coming to the conclusion that nothing he did would help him work. He looked at   
Yami, hesitant before he spoke. "I guess if you're staying here for a few days you can't really stay here   
while I'm in school" he muttered, violet eyes drawing up to meet dark crimson ones.  
  
"So what exactly do you expect me to do? Go there with you?" Yami growled darkly, his question only   
meant to be rhetorical.  
  
"Well…yeah. I could sign you in as a visiting student for a while. Then you wouldn't have to wait   
around for me to get back" Yuugi swallowed, seeing the disgusted look on Yami's face.  
  
This human expected him to go to a place crawling with meals on legs? Yami knew he couldn't hang   
about Yuugi's home, but going to a place where what he ate was wandering around tempting the   
vampire? He'd already showed lenience towards the child- this was pushing his boundaries to the limit   
of tolerance.  
  
Yami clenched his fists into balls, spiked wrists bands catching the electric light. "Fine, I agree to   
going with you but DON'T think I'm going to take part in any of it. And don't blame me if some of the   
inauspicious students…disappear" Yami muttered, teeth clenched tighter than his fists.  
  
Yuugi gave him an alarmed look, before shaking it away. "You can't hurt anyone while we're there!   
It'll be suspicious enough that you look like me let alone students start…dying…when you turn up!"  
  
"Bloody hell!" Yami swore viciously. "Is there anything else you don't want me to do dammit? Like   
breathe?!"  
  
Yuugi saw the vampire's temper flaring dangerously high. He was treading on sensitive ground and the   
sensitivity of it just got a whole lot sharper. If he had been standing, Yuugi would've stepped back, but   
since he was sitting he didn't have to.   
  
"P-please," he stuttered uncontrollably, "if it's the only thing you ever did for me then l-let it be this."  
  
Yami sighed and walked towards the Hikari. Yuugi cringed noticeably under his stern gaze, until he   
realised the vampire was only grabbing his jacket, which was resting on the desktop near his work.   
With saying another word to Yuugi, Yami left the room, slipping his brawny arms through the sleeves   
of his jacket.   
  
Yuugi stared after the vampire, his gut telling him what didn't need to be told. He shook out the feeling   
and returned to his homework, knowing Yami needed to cool down more than anything else. The sheer   
thought of what he did revolted Yuugi.  
  
For you see, Yami was hungry.   
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami swore under his breath, foot connecting with a solitary rock, black boot kicking it aside   
aimlessly. Hands deep in his pockets he wasn't going anywhere in particular. He didn't know the area   
so he aimed to stay within a few blocks of the Games Shop- even vampires got lost in strange worlds.  
  
His thoughts roamed throughout the day's events. There was only one problem. He knew how to get   
back and he had the will and need to go back.  
  
Yuugi didn't.  
  
But was it really a problem? He had sworn on his very soul, his essence of life, to go back with the   
vampire. He had no choice, unless his promise was made invalid by the one who had asked him to   
swear to it. In other words Yami.  
  
And Yami wasn't going to extinguish that promise, he needed the innocent child to get back to his own   
world. The vampire didn't like the thought of staying in this _light_ world for 3 more days but he had   
no choice in the matter. He'd shown leniency and he couldn't go back on his word.  
  
Argh! All these thoughts were driving Yami insane. He needed to hunt, to feel the thrill of the chase, to   
see the uncontrollable fear written over his prey's face. He _needed_ to install the terror, to watch the   
victim flee from him, prolonging their inevitable death. Spotting a nearby alley he headed towards it, a   
fire escape ladder climbing up the side of the building, it's metal framework crawling up the bricks like   
black ivy.  
  
Making his way swiftly up the rusting stairway, he emerged at the top to find he was still below the   
actual rooftop. Yami smirked judiciously- there were many advantages to being a child of the dark. He   
leapt up at the roof, his unnatural strength and agility letting him land perfectly on the flat surface. He   
straightened up and walked calmly to the edge. Bloody eyes scanned the surrounding area, a glint of   
light entering them when he saw a woodland not far from where he was.   
  
That would be his playground.  
  
Yami picked out a route across the rooftops, choosing a fairly direct path. He leapt clean across the   
surfaces, mentally laughing at the weak humans. They could never do this, their inferior bodies did not   
allow them such freedom. Vampires once human? Bah. Vampires may once have been human but they   
long since developed into far better creatures, cancelling out any thought that humans ruled anything.   
The worlds were the vampire's playgrounds, offering them an everlasting supply of terrified humans on   
the menu.   
  
Yami stepped into the dark forest, breathing in the relaxing scent of pine needles. His mind's previous   
thoughts seeped out of his head, his main focus turning on finding and catching his victim. Vampires   
had instincts much like that of wild animals- seek and destroy. Once they began a hunt it wasn't over   
until the prey was caught. And Yami was a skilled hunter, experienced in inflicting pain and   
encouraging cruelty. He set off through the jagged trees, shadows dancing across a malicious smirk.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
They walked slowly, hands clasping each other's gently. His deep voice rang out through whispering   
trees, her laughter softer than chiming bells. This was what they loved doing- to walk freely within the   
shades of the woodland, undisturbed by others who would seek to destroy the peace.  
  
Something snapped.  
  
Blond hair flew around her neck as she twisted her head quickly, grey eyes turning green as the   
sunlight caught them; her form stopping to look back. He lowered his head, looking back in the same   
direction.  
  
"Something's there" her voice was quiet, grey-green eyes wide and searching. His arm rubbed her   
shoulder, her wide eyes relaxing.  
  
"It was probably a squirrel. Nothing's there" he answered before leading her on again, the noise   
partially forgotten.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami grinned, his crimson eyes burning with glee as he stalked the pair. If he did make a sound it was   
on purpose- he wasn't amateur enough to make unwanted noises. But which would he deal with first?  
  
The vampire wanted to separate them, to make them panic. Once apart they'd be much easier prey to   
handle. Better take out the bigger threat first- the boy. It wasn't that he was a threat, the Vampire King   
needed him first to create more apprehension on the girl's part. Yami took off at a run, boots soundless   
against the dry forest floor.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
She was even more unsettled than she had been before. Various noises had erupted from around them,   
sometimes loud and sharp, sometimes quiet and soft. They hadn't stopped in the past half an hour and   
she didn't like it.  
  
He was as uneasy as she was. The sounds worried him. Nothing else had been heard for a while- birds   
had quietened and sank low in their nests, afraid of something. He stopped as another noise cracked in   
front of them. She squeezed his hand half-heartedly, feeling him do the same.  
  
He turned, leading her back the way they had come. Their footsteps became loud and rushed as their   
pace quickened. They walked past a gnarled tree, it's ancient limbs drooping with years of strain. Old   
greying bark covered it's dead hide, peeling off in small sections.  
  
She gave a startled shriek as his hand left hers. When she looked he wasn't anywhere around her. She   
called his name, telling him not to play games with her. But her cries fell on deaf ears.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami drove his twin teeth into the youth's tanned neck, some of his blood dripping down over the once   
unmarked skin. The rest flowed straight down Yami's waiting throat, warming it with it's hot vitality.   
Tense muscles fell limb as his lifeless body gave up the struggle. Once zealous brown eyes glazed over,   
forever left in their given look of shock.   
  
Yami removed his canines, brushing a small trickle of blood away from the corner of his mouth with   
his hand. He picked up the lifeless form fully, jogging off ahead of the remaining girl.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
She looked around wildly, trying to find her lost lover. Her voice hoarse from shouting, it wasn't long   
before she was running on back towards civilisation. She choked back a cry as the noises started up   
again behind her, though the beating of her heart soon blocked them out.  
  
Almost blinded by tears of consternation, she gave a startled yelp as she saw the figure of someone   
leaning against a tree. She slowed her pace, unsure of whether she should venture forward or avoid the   
lone figure. She called out the boy's name, edging forward even though she received no answer. She   
circled round, catching a glimpse at the face of the figure, half covered in dark shadow. She gave a cry   
of relief, running towards the boy. She stopped short when his face came into full view. Her scream   
pierced through the woodlands, causing birds to take wing in fear and other animals to run.  
  
There, was the form of her lover, held up against the tree by the spiked branch that ran through his   
neck. The rest of his body was horrifically mutilated, worse than just the neck alone.  
  
Hot tears fell in rivers down her face, her fingers reaching out to the boy though she couldn't bring   
herself to touch him; broken sobs racking her body. A cold shiver ran through her body, snapping her   
from her shocked state. She backed away from the carcass, turning and running towards the city;   
blinded by the tears that flowed from her seemingly melting eyes.  
  
She gave another short yelp as she ran straight into something. She snapped her head up, looking into   
the face of the man she'd run into. Lightning bangs lined his ivory face, a spiked crown of crimson and   
black shot from behind the jagged bangs.  
  
"Please! Help me. I-it's my…." she couldn't finished her sentenced but sank into the stranger's strong   
arms. He cuddled her, piercing crimson eyes looking down at her with a sadistic gaiety that she   
couldn't see as she sobbed into his leather shirt.  
  
"Shush, it's alright. Tell me what happened."  
  
She looked up into the ostensibly angelic face, opening her mouth to answer, closely it when something   
caught her eye. Beneath those perfect lips, were two abnormally long canines their tips poking out ever   
so slightly.   
  
The angelic face turned demonic.  
  
Yami smiled at her, showing the full extent of the slightly tinted canines, still bloodied from their last   
kill. The smiled vanished as his steel grip held her to him while the teeth entered her contracting artery.  
  
She was dead before she could say a thing.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
The next day proved more eventful for both Yuugi and the vampire.  
  
Yami had returned the previous night, not a whisper of what he had done escaping his mouth. Yuugi   
didn't need to know.   
  
Or was it he didn't _want_ Yuugi to know?  
  
Could it be that Yami was ashamed? That he was something Yuugi normally only saw in his   
nightmares, not something he should be living with. Was he ashamed of what he did, of the brutal   
practices he carried out to maintain himself?  
  
Yami passed off the thoughts as he woke the next morning unusually stiff, his back joints clicking as he   
stretched. It wasn't a good idea to sleep in a chair as the vampire learned from that experience. He   
blinked, clearing his lethargic eyes; before looking around Yuugi's empty bedroom. The child had   
gone. Yami frowned, looking at the scruffy bed, telltale signs that the boy hadn't long been up and   
about. Upon coming to the conclusion the youth wasn't in the hallway, Yami tried his mental link with   
him.  
  
//Yuugi?//  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
//Yuugi?//  
  
Yuugi jumped at the sudden call the filtered into his mind. He wasn't used to the unusual sensation,   
having only had it for two days. Staying into the mirror in front of him he saw the colour return to his   
cheeks as he recovered from the unexpected startle. He concentrated his thoughts into how he assumed   
he sent a message back.  
  
/Yes?/  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami frowned as he felt a strange feeling enter his mind, the frown leaving his brow when he realised   
what he had felt was relief. He was relieved to know the child was still there?  
  
//Where are you?//  
  
/In the bathroom, I'll be out in a minute/  
  
What the hell was he thinking?! Here he was stuck in a world he never knew actually existed, staying   
with someone he hardly knew who could pass for his almost identical twin and he was relieved just to   
hear them answer?!  
  
Anger and a large feeling of self-loathing filled the vampire, making his blood almost boil. He grabbed   
the nearest thing to him- a small glass paperweight, a golden eye in its centre. He threw it forcefully   
away from him, just as Yuugi stepped in.  
  
The teen gave a startled look, violet eyes slightly wide as he dodged the flying object, watching it   
smash into small fragments of chunky glass as it hit the wall next to the door.   
  
"Was it something I said?" Yuugi asked, light humour clear in his voice.   
  
Yami lowered his eyes to the shattered glass, as Yuugi bent down as picked up the freed golden eye.   
"Gomen, I just-"  
  
"Don't worry bout it, we all get angry sometimes" Yuugi cut him off before he could finish, "it's a   
good thing I've got an identical paperweight to this one."  
  
Yami walked over to him as he studied the smooth eye in his hand. It's gold surface was level and   
unmarked, a circle held within two curved lines which joined at either side, a small dent-like hole based   
in the circle's centre.  
  
"What is it?" Yami's question was directed at Yuugi's puzzled eyes rather than what the eye was.  
  
Yuugi frowned at it before glancing up at the vampire. "I don't know. I've seen this somewhere, but   
where…"  
  
The youth's fingers fondled the strange Puzzle that still hung against his chest, Yuugi feeling safer with   
it on for some reason or other.  
  
Yami reached out a hand and turned his Puzzle's front up so he could see its face. Yuugi held the loose   
eye next to the one on the Puzzle.   
  
Both eyes matched.   
  
"It's the Sennen Eye. I've seen it before both in my world and in the books here. I don't know what it   
means in your world but in mine it is very powerful- only the Vampire Sages and Darkwolf Seers use   
it." Yami let his Puzzle hang back against his chest.  
  
"Darkwolves?"  
  
"The other beings that inhabit the Shadowed world. I suppose they're what you call werewolves, being   
able to change forms from wolf to human. They live in their own territory, most that stray onto   
Vampire land die as a warning to others of their kind to stay away. We hate them and they hate us."  
  
Yuugi nodded in understanding, putting the Sennen Eye on his desk before pulling his school jacket off   
his desk chair. Slipping his arms in he eyed Yami up quickly. "You're gonna have to change."  
  
Yami snapped his head up, looking Yuugi directly in his innocent eyes. "What do you mean I have to   
change?!"  
  
"You can't go to school dressed like that- rules don't allow it" Yuugi stated, his tone matter-of-factly.  
  
Yami frowned at the comment- he didn't go by rules set by beings lower than himself let alone   
humans! The mere thought of it was outrageous to the Vampire King.  
  
"So what do you suggest I take off then?" he inquired, crossing his slender arms moodily as he kept his   
higher than a growl.  
  
Yuugi looked him over, eyeing what he was wearing. "Well you can keep you basic clothes on, but the   
spikes and chains have to go."  
  
Yami controlled the indignant growl that rose in his throat as he removed the spiked bracelets he wore   
around his wrists along with the numerous silver chains that was attached to his jacket and top.  
  
Yuugi opened his mouth to say another thing but Yami shook his head. "I'm not losing the buckles."  
  
Yuugi shrugged. "And the rest of the spikes, meaning your neck belt."  
  
Again the vampire shook his head. "I am not going around with a bare neck."  
  
Yuugi felt a small pang of annoyance, before solving the problem. Going over to a drawer, he searched   
through its contents until he found the item he wanted. He handed it to Yami, who inspected the   
smooth black leather and silver buckle of the neck belt.  
  
"Wear that if it means you'll take your one off."  
  
"Fine" Yami conceded, fingers fumbling with the buckle on his spiked belt. He slid it off from around   
his neck, the ivory skin below shown to the teen for the first time.   
  
What Yuugi saw caused him to stare uncontrollably.   
  
Cleverly concealed beneath the neck belts Yami wore, his pale skin was smooth and unmarked except   
for one area. Based a few inches away from the centre of Yami's neck sat a strange mark, much like   
that of the Sennen Eye, carved into his skin. The basic shape was that of the Sennen Eye but inside a   
curved symbol filled the centre, it's appearance much like that of an '8' with a diagonal line through it.  
  
Yami felt the presence of eyes, knowing that Yuugi had caught a glimpse of the mark. He slipped the   
belt around the back of his neck covering the mark with the cold leather.  
  
"How did-?" Yuugi swallowed, turning violet eyes up to meet softened crimson ones.  
  
Yami sighed. "I wish I could forget that day…"  
  
***Flashback***********************************************************************  
  
~Shadow World- Reign of Bison 1500 AD.~  
  
He wiped the warm crimson from his mouth, staring down at the carcass of the Darkwolf lying before   
him. It's matted white fur stained deep scarlet, the snarling jaw had relaxed, glossy teeth hidden   
beneath a reddened muzzle.  
  
Why had he come here?  
  
Yami backed away from the fallen Darkwolf, crimson eyes stilling staring down at it. He couldn't feel the   
slashes and bites that gorged his frame, his only thoughts falling back to the other.   
  
But it wasn't his fault.   
  
That Darkwolf knew to stay in his own territory, not enter the vampires. Why had he done it? It wasn't   
_why_ that caused Yami's confusion it was _who_. Who was the Darkwolf? If that was one thing   
Yami did know, only the strongest Darkwolves dared to enter vampire terrain. Either that or those who   
didn't know the dangers. And this Darkwolf wasn't particularly strong or old.   
  
Yami had killed a Darkwolf pup.  
  
And if this pup had wandered out of his own territory then others of its Pack would be sure to follow.  
  
"What's that?!"  
  
Yami's headed snapped up as he saw shapes moving on the hill above him. The dark forms moved   
down the hillside, anguished growls sounding from angry throats. Coats of various colours, black,   
white, mottled grey and blond stepped into the light as a group of around ten fully grown Darkwolves   
halted. One moved forward to the dead pup, greying muzzle nudging its limb body.  
  
Yami may only have been considered a young vampire by his kind, but he was no recreant. He wasn't   
stupid either. He knew danger when it was in front of him.  
  
And what stood before him couldn't get much more dangerous.  
  
Yami did the only thing he could in this situation- run. But they knew what he had done and no amount   
of running could take him away from ten angry grown Darkwolves. All he felt were the savage blows   
dealt to his head before he passed into darkness.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
"He must pay for what he has done!"  
  
"He killed our kin we have a right to take our vengeance!"  
  
Far away voices screamed at Yami as he wavered between darkness and consciousness. He didn't want   
to leave the safety of the dark, he could hide there, unaware of others around him.  
  
But the darkness didn't want him.  
  
Slowly feeling came back to the vampire's limbs, slashes and grazes burning like wild fire. They stung   
but they weren't the worst. That was still to come.  
  
Crimson eyes blinked slowly as they opened to the rest of the world, pupils contracting from the harsh   
light that entered them. As Yami's eyes adjusted to his surroundings he found himself without a clue as   
to where he was. All he could see around him were forms of what appeared to be humans and wolves,   
their angry shouts ringing out through the hall; lit by burning torches of golden flames.  
  
"He's a vampire, he has no rights here!"  
  
Then the realisation of what was happening struck Yami, bubbling panic welling in his mind and he   
wasn't one to get scared easily.  
  
He was in the Darkwolf court of the High Council.  
  
Lifting his head, the vampire found himself staring up at the Elders of the Darkwolves. They stood on a   
platform above the rest, staying in their wolf forms as they looked down on the angry crowd   
surrounding their captive.   
  
Yami moved his arm only to find it wouldn't obey him. Puzzled by this, Yami tugged harder, only to   
feel thick cords bite into his wrists. His ankles were in a similar state. He glanced at two guards   
standing nearby in their human forms, more keeping the crowd away from the vampire.  
  
Only a muffled cry escaped his throat as he attempted to speak, only then realising the layer of fabric   
that covered his mouth gagging any protest he could make. It was then that Yami could comprehend how   
helpless he was. A killer surrounded by the victim's kinsmen.  
  
"Enough!"  
  
The roaring crowd's jumbled voices died down as one of the Elders stepped forward, his blond fur   
catching the light from the torches on the walls. Yami felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck as   
the Darkwolf stared down at his bound form.  
  
"Though this vampire must be punished we cannot kill him" the Elder spoke out, voice raised so all   
could hear. Cries of disapproval rang out again, triggering a chain of enraged reactions.  
  
"They murdered one of ours!"  
  
"Why can't we kill one of them?!"  
  
The Darkwolf sent out a loud short bark, attracting the crowd's attention again. "We cannot kill him   
without a risk of starting a war between us and the Vampire Clans! More would die just by making a   
mistake like that! I said even though we will not kill him he must still be punished for what he has   
done."   
  
Though slightly relieved by hearing they weren't going to kill him, Yami felt a tremor of fear run   
through his frame.  
  
"Then what do you plan to do then?"  
  
The Elder turned his head towards the area where the voice had spoken from, though he wasn't   
bothered about who said it.   
  
"He will be given a punishment that he will never forget- one that will stay with him for the rest of his   
life! As an Elder of this council I say he has is given a marking to show his crime- one that our race   
will always recognise and hate! One that other races will also recognise as a symbol of his evil and our   
mercy!"  
  
His voice came out cold and clear sending up shouts of approval from every Darkwolf in the hall.   
Another Elder, covered in sooty black fur, nodded to the two guards near the vampire. They moved   
forwards and grabbed Yami, one on either side as they carried him struggling over to a table.  
  
Even with his restraints, Yami still fought back against his captors as far as the cords would allow. He   
kicked savagely at the Darkwolves as they held him on the wooden table, catching a few of them in   
their stomachs. Several more came over to hold him, grabbing his flailing legs, strong hands keeping   
them still. Others held his upper body as two grabbed the sides of his head, twisting it sideways   
roughly, exposing the smooth ivory skin of his neck.  
  
Yami turned his eyes in an attempt to see what they were doing. A Darkwolf came over in his human   
form, a knife grasped in his hand. The vampire's eyes widened as the brown haired 'human' brought   
the gleaming knife down to his neck.  
  
As the sharp edge bit into his sensitive skin, Yami surged, his entire form fighting against the   
restraining arms and cords that held him, protests and shouts of pain leaving his mouth as quiet   
whimpers from behind the dirty layer of fabric that served as a gag.  
  
Now he felt more acrid cords wrapping themselves over his legs and stomach, binding his buckling   
frame to the table. He tried twisting his head back, taking away the expose section of his neck, but the   
hands held firm.  
  
And then the knife began its winding course over the supple skin of his neck. Blood ran out thick and   
fast from the cuts, as Yami's struggling became weaker; his muscles exhausted. There was no point in   
fighting.  
  
It didn't matter.  
  
***End Flashback********************************************************************  
  
Yami's eyes fell to the ground ashamed as he walked alongside Yuugi, his pace deliberately slower for   
the teen.   
  
"I've worn that mark covered for as long as I can remember. It's 500 years and Darkwolves still   
recognise it, as do other clans. Vampires aren't bothered by it, but if they knew I carried it I would be   
considered weak for being so careless. Only a few know about it and they swore themselves to   
secrecy."  
  
Yuugi gnawed his lip as they walked towards Domino High, his mind registering the story Yami had   
told. The vampire trusted him enough to tell him something so personal? Something he kept from most,   
he had told freely to the youth with seemingly no hesitation.  
  
"But why did they care so much? I can see why they'd be upset about it being a younger one but there   
must have been another reason" he inquired, sneakers scuffing the pavement as he stepped out.  
  
"I didn't know it when I had killed him but he was one of the Pack leaders kin, a Darkwolf called   
Vega. The one I killed was his son presumably the one destined to rule the Pack if no one opposed him.   
So it made him more important to them."  
  
Yuugi nodded in understanding.  
  
"You think I'm a monster."  
  
Yuugi snapped his head up, looking into a face so full of guilt and a longing to be understood that he   
felt a wave of sympathy wash through his heart.  
  
"No I think you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. You do what you need to survive, even   
if you use weird methods you're still just trying to live like everything else. That doesn't make you a   
monster" Yuugi's answer shocked Yami more than he expected. He had come to think that the human   
was appalled with what he did, that he was a monster, a nightmare to others. But here the youth had   
proved him wrong.  
  
He'd shown the vampire compassion.  
  
He hadn't judged, he'd listened to Yami and seemed to understand him. Was there nothing bad about   
this child?  
  
"Thank-you."  
  
Those two simple words, so full of gratitude were something Yami hadn't used since…before he could   
remember.  
  
Yuugi gave him a wide smile. "No problem. Just one thing."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Can you make your teeth kinda, well, shorter?" Yuugi felt partially awkward asking this, but they had   
to be hidden.  
  
Yami chuckled, a glimmer of a smile appearing on his stern mouth, giving him a strange look. "Ok."  
  
Yami felt the twin canines sink up into his gum as he shortened them to a reasonable size, still longer   
than an average humans but shorter than before.  
  
"You should do that more often."  
  
Yami glanced down at Yuugi, puzzled by his comment. "Do what more often?"  
  
"Smile. You'll feel better than always going round with a face on you like a wet weekend" Yuugi   
giggled, receiving a mock scowl from the vampire. "Hey there's Jou!"  
  
Yami watched as Yuugi ran forward, heading towards a group of three, two guys, one blond the other   
brunette, the third a girl with short brown hair. He carried on walking at his chosen speed, coming up   
behind Yuugi moments later.  
  
"Guys this is Yami. He's gonna be in school with me for a few days" he introduced the Game King,   
smiling broadly at his friends.  
  
The blond stepped forward, holding his hand out to Yami. "Name's Katsuya Jounochi but you can call   
me Jou."  
  
Yami shook his hand, nodding in return. The brunette came up next, Honda, his lanky former well   
above Yami's head. Finally the girl came over, smiling cerulean eyes gazing warmly at the vampire.   
Anzu.  
  
"You look a lot like Yuug' Yami. You two related?" Jou asked, his chocolate eyes roaming from Yuugi   
to Yami and back again.  
  
"He's my, err…cousin! Yeah, down visiting for a while aren't you Yami?" Yuugi answered quickly,   
elbowing Yami in the stomach.  
  
"What? Oh, yeah. Down for a few days" Yami blurted out, giving Yuugi a glare when the three weren't   
looking, crimson eyes watching hungrily as students walked past him; tempting him though he had to   
keep his instincts under control.  
  
"We'll meet up with you guys at registration ok? I gotta go get Yami signed in" the teen explained,   
grabbing Yami by the wrist, dragging him off towards the school office, causing his wondering gaze to   
come out of it's dazed state.  
  
"Later Yuug'!" Jou shouted after them, lanky frame turning back to Honda.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
"Burn me with hot pokers, stick needles in my eyes, anything but don't make me sit through that-that   
torture again!"  
  
Yuugi giggled at Yami's exaggerated response to their previous lesson. "It was only Maths!"  
  
Yami raised a perfect eyebrow, staring down at the youth. "Believe me, if that was a punishment back   
in my world, rules would never be broken again. How do you sit through that everyday?"  
  
"You get used to it" came Yuugi's systematic reply as he pushed open the cafeteria door, letting the   
river of voices flood out, their shrieks high pitched mingled with a few deeper ones which evened out   
the overall tone.  
  
Yami stepped in as Yuugi held the door for him, the Game King spying Jou's blond hair above the sea   
of darker colours; indicating where he was. He followed Yuugi over, sitting down next to the short   
youth.  
  
The vampire had managed to retain his hunger though  
  
"Hey guys" the greeting was said in unison, all the group saying it at once, with the exception of Yami.  
  
Jou bit hungrily into his burger, mayonnaise dripping out the back onto his tray. Without caring that his   
mouth was full of food, the blond addressed the vampire. "So Yami, what you think of Maths?"  
  
Before Yami could answer with a crude remark about it being complete 'torture', Yuugi spoke for him.   
"He doesn't like it."  
  
Honda snorted. "Who does? Should be banned if y'ask me."  
  
Yuugi shrugged, before biting into his sandwich, offering the other half to Yami. "You can eat it right?   
I mean, it doesn't do anything to you does it?"  
  
"No, I can eat other things they just don't _do_ anything for me" Yami explained, eyeing the sandwich   
warily.  
  
"It's only chicken salad" Yuugi saw Yami giving the offending sandwich a small glare. After looking   
at Yuugi, the vampire decided the sandwich would _not_ kill him he took a doubtful bite. Chewing   
slowly he swallowed it and his eyes brightened up slightly before returning to their normal dark   
glimmer.  
  
"Oh great. Here comes trouble" Anzu muttered, turning her eyes down to the relatively clean table.   
Jou, Honda and Yuugi all quietened, their faces sullen. Yami looked around puzzled as to what was   
bothering the group.  
  
Crimson eyes fell on three boys heading over to the table, ugly grins plastered on their faces. None of   
the three would be considered gentle, their bulky forms showing what they were without anyone   
having to give a mild guess.  
  
They walked over, missing Yami altogether heading over to Yuugi instead, standing just behind him   
while one sat beside him, the other side to the vampire.   
  
"Hello Yuugi. How much you got today?"  
  
The question was far from pleasant sounding, the boy's tone almost smirking for him. Yuugi kept his   
eyes down, fingers fiddling with his drink bottle.  
  
"I don't have any" his voice was barely above a whisper, waiting for the expected reply.   
  
The one sitting next to him gave a lopsided smirk. "That's what you say every time yet you always got   
some. So give it up."  
  
Yuugi sighed, lowering his eyes further as he reached reluctantly into his jeans pocket for the money he   
had stored there. He stopped when Yami's hand rested on his arm. He looked up at the vampire, seeing   
an annoyed frown planted on his face.  
  
"Back off and go" Yami's voice was a low murmur, crimson eyes burning at the main thug. The guy   
looked at him, seeming to have noticed Yami for the first time.  
  
"Looks like we got a new guy and he obviously don't know the rules."  
  
"Should stay outta our business if y'ask me" one of the other youths piped up.  
  
Yami turned his gaze to the speaker, steel crimson eyes unnerving him. His voice sounded colder than   
ice but smoother than silk. "If it involves Yuugi or his friends then it is my business. As I said, back   
off."  
  
The leading youth didn't like where this was going. He wasn't scared of this new guy, but there was   
_something_ about him that gave him an almost dangerous air. The teen stood walked over to Yami,   
muscular arms folded stubbornly. "And what you gonna do bout it? Hurt me?"  
  
Yami stood, his slender body shorter and far less bulky than the groups. "Oh I'll do more than hurt you,   
you'll wish your pathetic life had never started."  
  
He was stung. No one had ever called him pathetic. No one had dared. All around them kids had   
stopped eating, conversations hushed as they watched the heat grow between Yami and the bully.  
  
Agitated by Yami's cool confidence, the youth wasn't prepared to let the new guy make a fool out of   
him. He did the only thing his slow mind could register for him to do- to try and scare the vampire into   
backing down. He grabbed Yami by the shirt, bringing his face close to the Game King's.  
  
"No one calls me pathetic and gets away with it that easily."  
  
Yami averted his eyes and sighed.   
  
The teen gave a triumphant grin, believing he had defeated the vampire.  
  
Wrong.  
  
Before the youth knew what had happened, Yami had grabbed his wrists, yanking them away from his   
shirt; reversing the move so that he had the thug by his collar, slamming him forcefully onto the table.   
Yami leaned over so his face was directly over the youth's, cold crimson eyes glaring down into wide   
green ones.  
  
"Your nothing but pathetic. You think you can scare me into submission? Your nothing but a low piece   
of shit scraped off decent people's shoes. Watch who you try to start a fight with, you might get more   
than you bargained for. Catch my drift?"  
  
As he said his last sentence, Yami's upper lips curled back slightly, his twin canines extended to their   
full length; bared viciously so that only the teen could see them. the youth nodded dumbly, too terrified   
to say a word.  
  
"Good. If you EVER come near Yuugi and his friends again then you'll have hell to pay. Now go crawl   
back under the rock from which you came!"  
  
Yami let go of the teen watching him scramble upright, trying to regain any dignity he had had before.   
He practically ran from the cafeteria, his two friends with him. A loud applause filled the room, all of   
it's gratitude and praise aimed at Yami, who sat back down calmly; though a confused look haunted his   
unnaturally beautiful face.  
  
"What're they applauding for?"   
  
Yuugi surprised the vampire by hugging him profusely around his middle. "Arigatou Yami."  
  
Yami looked questioningly at Honda and Jou who winked back at him.  
  
"Those three guys have bugged us for months, mostly taking Yuugi's money rather than anyone else's.   
No one's ever stood up to them cause we've been to scared. Then you come along and the first day   
you're here you do something no one would _dare_ do. S'pose people kinda see you as a hero."  
  
Yami listened to the explanation, but just shrugged, the applauds having finally died done though   
anyone he looked at smiled at him. "I can't stand people like that. They think they're tough, installing   
fear in the weaker of their society, though when someone stands up to them they crack and show just   
how weak they truly are. They're snivelling idiots looking for attention."  
  
Yuugi smiled at him, having let go of his middle. "Well no one's gonna forget about that in a hurry.   
Whether you want it or not people are gonna remember that and thank you for it."  
  
Yami nodded, the noise in the cafeteria rising back to its usual level, though this time it was filled with   
the same topic.  
  
"Did you see the look on his face when the guy told him to go?"  
  
"That guy's amazing! He doesn't look that strong but I bet he is!"  
  
"Well yeah! He has to be to scare Ken like that!"  
  
Through all this, Yami just returned to his sandwich; blocking out the various comments, keeping his   
mind trained on Yuugi.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
That night Yami sat in the darkened living room, eyes staring into nothing as his thoughts ran over the   
days' events and what was to come.   
  
"Yami? What're you doing down here in the dark? It's 3:30 in the morning."  
  
His head turned as he saw Yuugi's short form in the doorway, silhouetted against the moonlight that   
poured in behind him.  
  
His answer was short and to the point. "I couldn't sleep."  
  
Yuugi stifled a yawn and stepped into the living room, bare feet soundless against the carpet. "You   
wanna talk bout anything?"  
  
Yami shook his head, knowing that Yuugi couldn't actually see the movement. "No it's alright. You   
should go back to bed, I'll be up in a while."  
  
"Ok, just don't stay up all night, you might be a vampire but you guys must need to sleep too" Yuugi   
stated sleepily, making his way back up the stairs to his room.  
  
Yami slid down further into the comfy over-stuffed armchair, crimson eyes blinking slightly against   
sleep. `Just two days left then I'll be back where I belong.`  
  
The thought was partially comforting to the vampire as he slipped into a dreamless sleep.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Author's notes:  
  
FC: ok so Gomen nasai to both Zoo-chan and all you readers. I didn't mean to take so long in getting   
this out but first I had writer's block, then I had to go away….  
  
Flareon Muse: we don't want excuses FC! You're just lazy -.-  
  
FC: well that too…  
  
Zoo: *runs around insanely* Wheeeeee! I'm just glad you got it out ^^  
  
FC: eventually *dances* ^_~  
  
Eevee Muse: will they ever grow up?  
  
Flareon Muse: *whacks FC on the head with a mallet* no probably not  
  
Zoo: ;_; we like how we are! *sniff*  
  
FC: yah! ^^() and some of you might have noticed but some of the names were from Street Fighter 2   
and I don't own them either. Anyways….  
  
Zoo: Please review!!!!  
  
FC: ^_~ 


	6. Regression and Transferral

Author's notes:  
  
Disclaimer: FC and I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. If we did, you would see Pegasus as the   
main character. *nods* Mmm hmm...  
  
Wah! I realized how little I had in this chapter after reading FC's section (you should   
give yourself a pat on the back, FC-chan! That was awesome :) ! Though, XD, I was   
wondering about the name "Bison". Ahh.. the good old days of Street Fighter.   
  
FC: -_-;; At least I have the creativity to make up names.   
  
Zoo: Blame it all on my short-term memory ^^V.   
  
FC: Anyway, you better start your fic - you're taking up too much space!  
  
Zoo: YES! On to the- *stops* Waiiit a moment. What am I doing here? You're not   
spying on me are you? *suspicious eyes*  
  
FC: *sweatdrop*  
  
Warnings: Sexual abuse, mental abuse, swearing, minor bleeding. Due to Snare-  
chan's request, I have spared you mortals from (too much) Ryou-angst.   
  
NOTE: "Former darkwolf" = "outcast", used to term Bakura's human form.   
  
**************************  
  
  
He was running in an endless plain of emerald-green grass, feeling the wind whistle   
against his ears. The gentle grass tickled his paws; the fresh morning scent stimulated   
his every senses.   
  
At long last, the sloped grass came to an abrupt end, edging into a crest overlooking a   
sea of sparkling-white sand and fathomless water.   
  
Now, he gazed at the sight, breathing in exhilarated breaths as he simply took   
in all the beauty around him. Such wonder, such magnificence - it was nothing he had   
seen before.   
  
But dreams are meaningless and false, and they themselves represent nothing   
but unattainable desire.   
  
********************************  
  
"In darkness and amid the many shapes   
Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir  
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,   
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart -"  
  
- "Tintern Abbey", William Wordsworth  
  
*********************************  
  
Chapter 6 - Regression and Transferral  
  
  
At first, he could only hear a low, vibrating buzzing in his ears. It was a faint   
sound, often fluctuating and receding, but always constant. Then, the hum began to   
sharpen into soft, distinguishable scrapes, and finally a full symphony of sound.   
  
A symphony of silence.   
  
Bakura's eyes snapped open. He was momentarily blinded by the sudden rush   
of images all yammering simultaneous bits of information to his mind. And then,   
everything once again dulled down and came to a standstill.   
  
He was in a strange type of shelter, a boxed, flat room of luridly white walls   
and oddly contorted pieces of furniture. He himself was situated on an unnaturally   
soft bed, covered in a layer of foreign pale blue fabric. Gingerly, he placed a   
trembling hand on the fabric, stroking it softly with the back of his hand to admire the   
delicate texture. It was cool to the touch and oddly calming to gaze at.  
  
But now, his past emotions were returning to him, mind no longer lost in a rut   
of vacancy. Bakura narrowed his dark-brown eyes, once again radiating his in-born   
bristling, defensive air. Where the hell was he?  
  
There was a flat, wooden panel some meters away from him that could have   
been a possible exit, had it not been so plainly blocked. A golden knob protruded   
curiously from the left center of the panel, which Bakura deducted to be either a   
contraption or a decoration of sorts.   
  
The golden knob on the panel suddenly began to turn on its own. Startled,   
Bakura shot from his bed, wincing slightly at the pain from his protesting muscles. He   
assumed an offensive stance close to the panel, ready to attack the strange, moving   
knob.   
  
That was, he would have attacked, if the large panel hadn't suddenly swept   
open. Bakura momentarily blinked in confusion, senses reeling just slightly. The   
panel had opened - there was an exit!   
  
At least, Bakura thought it was an exit. For, seated right between the open   
panel and the exit was his own reflection.   
  
Bakura was confused. It was impossible! He was staring at a living, breathing   
reflection of himself! He could feel the breath of the other person rising and falling   
slightly, and could see the eyes rapidly dilating in panic.   
  
And then, the former darkwolf's confusion melded into anger. How dare this-   
this _human_ mock him by assuming his form! He turned his angry, livid eyes   
towards the doppelganger, addressing the other for the first time, in a gruff,   
demanding voice.   
  
"Who are you?" Bakura's fixated his eyes on the single figure, boring down   
with a fierce, almost livid ferocity. His breathing felt tight and constricted, chest   
heaving in laborious gasps. And then, there was the pain. Most of it was centered   
around his legs and torso, though there were still the etched scars running down his   
back and arms. Strangely enough, there was an absence of pain on his back - Bakura   
knew that it was not because his wound had healed but rather, because the damage   
was beyond any comprehendible pain, even beyond his brain's ability to register.   
  
The doppelganger was finally beginning to stir from his shocked and visibly   
frightened strength, stuttering a few incoherent gasps before finally speaking. "I-I-I s-  
saw that y-you were h-hurt and..." He began, face drained of colour.   
  
-"I asked for your name, human!" Bakura shouted, breaking into a snarl. He   
spat the last word in livid disgust, staring at the other with a mixture of contempt and   
hatred. How dare this weak, puny, vile, pathetic human assume his guise? What irony   
was this that stripped him of his last piece of dignity?  
  
The doppelganger boy cringed under Bakura's command, expression falling   
hastily to the ground as if he could will away the former darkwolf by simply not   
looking at them. His soft white bangs curled around his face and shrouded his once-  
bright eyes as his lip began to tremble softly. "I-I'm..." He paused, daring to look up   
once more, as if confirming that Bakura was not only a momentary nightmare. "My   
name is Ryou."  
  
Ryou.   
  
Darkwolf ears are incredibly acute, able to pick up even the slightest   
difference in sound texture and frequency. Even in their human forms, Darkwolves   
had superior hearing, far better than the average human.   
  
And yet, there is a great difference between hearing in your ears and hearing   
in your mind. For, Bakura's ears clearly heard the whimper expressed as a foreign   
name, but his mind translated it to be something else. Something that his pained   
emotions screamed and clawed at, wishing to devour it and ease their pitiless comfort.   
  
"Ryou" Bakura's mouth repeated, though it felt detached from his thoughts.   
His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Ryou... Ryou..... Ryu!"  
  
Finally, his logic and reasoning faltered, making way for his blind,   
unexplainable emotion. A wave of grief, hatred, and agony washed over his features,   
moulding them into a demonic grimace of insanity. His mind had finally snapped,   
unable to bridge the gap between present reality and past failures. The grudges and   
desire for revenge flooded his every thought.   
  
A split second later, Bakura had Ryou pinned against the wall, clenching the   
boy's shirt by the collar and forcing the other to stare at him face to face. The former   
Darkwolf bore his cold brown eyes into the other's pale chestnut ones.   
  
Ryou didn't even have time to whimper before Bakura moved, the former   
Darkwolf wrapping his hands against the other's pale neck, tilting the boy's soft chin.   
Bakura then pressed his lips firmly against the other's, pinching Ryou's chin with his   
fingers to forcefully squeeze open the mouth. He felt the boy's lips part in a shocked   
gasp and roughly thrust his tongue into Ryou's mouth, purposely tracing every   
groove, every mark, every tooth with each harsh stroke. Now, Bakura could feel the   
other belatedly react, trying to push the former darkwolf away, body thrashing feebly.   
Bakura could feel the other's mouth try to repel the foreign feeling, trying to force   
away the violation of intimacy. But most of all, the former Darkwolf could feel the   
other trying to block away the pain and growing despair.   
  
And Bakura loved every single moment of it.   
  
At last, the former Darkwolf pulled away, hands never leaving the other's   
neck. He was close enough to literally touch Ryou's nose with his tongue; to smell the   
taste of his own saliva left staining the shocked boy's lips.   
  
And before Ryou could begin to protest, Bakura was on the boy again, lips   
hungrily enveloping the others, tasting the tension and growing fear with livid   
pleasure. His hands began moving towards the boy's shirt, pulling the buttons apart   
with an unceremonious flick of his wrist, listening in satisfaction as the beads of   
buttons scattered and swirled on the floor.   
  
Now, Ryou was growing desperate, redoubling his efforts, even trying to   
scream. That proved to be a fatal mistake as Bakura choked the boy's voice with his   
tongue, cutting off the other's supply for oxygen and purposely constricting the   
needed gasps of air. The former Darkwolf let his hands linger on the boy's soft body,   
feeling the fragile, gentle bones yield under him like lamb's skin.   
  
Slowly, Bakura parted, letting Ryou struggle and work for each moment of   
freedom, enjoying the power and control from the movement. It was exhilarating,   
how a single moment of pleasure could fulfill his gaping maw of pain and bridge his   
agony of self-failure. The stains and tarnishes still filled his mind, his battered and   
abused body still evident. But now, he was no longer was the victim. He was in   
control.   
  
Ryou whimpered softly, gazing at Bakura with overflowing tear-brimmed   
eyes. They trickled down his pale white skin, splashing down his cheeks and   
collecting in dark droplets on his clothing.   
  
The boy looked pathetic. That much Bakura had to admit. A twinge of pain   
and then guilt shot through the former Darkwolf's thoughts. The boy was an exact   
puppet of Bakura's own agony, the expression a mirror to the former darkwolf's   
pained conflict. It was a sad face, vainly trying to appear confident and controlled   
while breaking apart ever so surely inside, bit by bit.   
  
There was no mistaking it. It wasn't just the face, nor the hair and physical   
appearance. Ryou was Bakura. The spiritual part of Bakura that the former darkwolf   
refused to harness. It was the part that Bakura denied himself, forcing himself to rise   
on top of the pain instead of yielding in quite, pained, acquiescence like he should.   
  
Ryou was Bakura's pain. The boy was Bakura's internal conflict, the tattered   
remains of his ragged, abused soul.   
  
And Bakura laughed. He threw his head back and laughed in a throaty roar,   
full of contempt, anger, and disgust. Yes, he was angry at himself, for being so weak,   
for being so vulnerable to those who tortured him. He hated himself for who he had   
become, for what had happened to him, and most of all, for allowing such events to   
occur.   
  
The former darkwolf sneered, mouth curving into a contemptuous smile. He   
never left his darkened gaze off Ryou, instead, glaring accusedly down at the other.   
  
He was staring at to himself.   
  
He was staring at his failure, his agonized past.   
  
**********************************  
  
Why?  
  
Of all the frightened, trembling, confused, terrified questions whirling in his   
mind, only this one remained consistent.   
  
Why was this person so angry at him? What had he done?  
  
Ryou shivered as he felt the other's cold fingers travel possessively down his   
spine. He was paralysed; unable to move or speak from sheer, unadulterated fear. And   
even through that blinding fear, that question still rang clear in his mind.   
  
Why?  
  
Ryou remembered treading down the alleyway, almost stepping into a messy,   
bloody pool housing the strange person's tattered body. The white-haired boy had felt   
sympathy for this injured person, taking him home to nurse the wounds. A part of   
Ryou wondered how anyone could recover so fast, and another at why this person   
looked an uncanny amount like him.   
  
It was past the time for wondering. The other had him in a firm grip, forcing   
Ryou down to his knees. The boy could feel the other's breath tremble over him, misty   
steam trailing down his neck and sending shivers along his spine. The other was over   
him now, towering above the boy, face plastered in an enraged, maniacal snarl.   
  
A cold hand shot downwards, toying at Ryou's jeans before forcefully   
unzipping it apart. Fingers, clawed together, clenched the boy's, daring the other to   
protest.   
  
Ryou gasped, choking out another muffled cry. The hand squeezed harder,   
applying a painful pressure. It was a violating, horrible feeling, to be stripped of all   
dignity and used as a pleasure toy. And Ryou had thought that he was doing the other   
a favour by bringing him in.   
  
Now, the pain was climaxing, surging to an unbearable point. The other had   
his lips firmly pressed against Ryou's neck, tasting the soft white skin with utter   
delight. A low, predatorial growl escaped the other's throat, causing Ryou to shiver   
and then recoil. The white-haired boy was immediately restrained with a single glare   
from the other.   
  
"P-please. S-stop it." Ryou moaned, even as the other flexed his finger so   
firmly wrapped around his. He could also feel the other's teeth bite softly into his skin,   
drawing blood with their incredibly sharp, serrated edges. A trickle of crimson liquid   
seeped slowly down boy's neck, mixing with his long, snowy-white hair.   
  
The other grinned. "Make me." It was a sadistic, demonic smile, a smile   
robbed of true pleasure, hiding a strange, hidden emotion underneath.   
  
"Make me." The other repeated again, before biting his teeth down harder into   
the nape of Ryou's neck. A rough tongue brushed against the exposed cuts, causing   
Ryou to gasp from the stinging pain.   
  
And then, Ryou screamed.   
  
Or at least, he tried to. He tried to shout, to call for help, to save himself from   
this threat. Two seconds of fresh air, and he found himself choking, the other's   
calloused hand now cupped tightly around his mouth, allowing only the faintest   
muffled retort. The other was practically on top of the kneeling boy, wrapping his   
arms possessively around Ryou.  
  
The hand in his jeans had withdrawn some, seeking satisfaction in digging its   
sharp nails into Ryou's soft, exposed, underbelly. More points of blood began pooling   
around the fingertips, five identical bruises spreading from each point.   
  
Sudden, blinding, pain.   
  
The feeling struck Ryou even before he recognized it. The other had sunk his   
teeth hard into Ryou's flesh. It burned intensely along his neck and collarbone like   
liquid fire, stinging with sharp precision. A dark-crimson pool of blood and soft   
tissue became exposed underneath, allowing the other to lap up the excess blood with   
his coarse, rough, tongue.   
  
There was no denying it. The other was enjoying every moment that Ryou   
struggled and tried to scream, the other was enjoying every tear forced from the boy's   
eyes.   
  
And still, even in this state of blind pain and agony, Ryou could only ask one   
question. He could only come up with one question.   
  
Why?  
  
****************************************  
  
Blood had never tasted so good before. It was the sweet, virgin blood of the   
untainted, and because of that, Bakura loved it more. Yet, he was no vampire. It was   
not the blood he lusted for. It was the fear created by the blood, the fear the other so   
clearly radiated.   
  
The fear was intoxicating. Especially when Bakura created it. He, for once,   
was _creating_ the fear, not receiving it. He had power. He had control.   
  
At long last, the former darkwolf withdrew his position, removing his mouth   
from the mess of skin and dying blood. He heard the other involuntarily hiss as the   
wound became exposed to the stinging, stagnant air, and he enjoyed it.   
  
But, there was something else disturbing him. The Millennium Ring - it was   
tugging as his chest, filling it was a strange sense of heaviness. He could feel the   
restraining power of the Ring begin to manifest itself once again into his body, trying   
to render his mind into submission.   
  
No! He couldn't let the Ring control him! He was in control!   
  
With an angry cry, he grabbed the Millennium Ring, trying to wrench it off   
his chest. The item wouldn't budge, string firmly contracted, sticking against his  
body as if it were a part of his skin.   
  
Again and again he tried, to no success. Enraged, he thrashed, hurling his body   
against the wall, trying to detach his Ring through blind, unreasonable force. He was   
now battering his own body, once again opening the newly-healed wounds, some of   
the new skin along his back splitting to spread a fine, crimson trail along his clothing.   
Clothing that he would never realize was not his.   
  
Hands pulling the cord, the former Darkwolf yanked heavily, half-choking   
himself, though he seemed not to notice. A demonic scowl was still plastered on his   
once-beautiful face. He shifted positions, snarling, hurling himself against any barrier-  
  
-and was stopped.   
  
Someone, other than the Millennium Ring, was restraining him.   
  
It had been more of shock than power that had stopped Bakura. Slowly, the   
former darkwolf turned his incredulous gaze towards the source. Ryou - the pathetic,   
helpless, mortal boy _Ryou_ - had stopped him.   
  
And for a single, impulsive moment, Ryou dared himself to stare back into   
those deathly accusing eyes.   
  
"Stop it." Ryou said, putting as much emphasis as possible into his trembling   
words. "Stop hurting yourself."  
  
Bakura snarled, breaking from the grasp. He turned to Ryou, bleeding   
profusely, heaving in exhausted, half-enraged gasps. "How _dare_ you." The former   
darkwolf began, hand extended to deliver the other a stinging blow. Yet, even as he   
struck the boy across the cheek, he could feel the difference in response. There was a   
stiff, defiant rebuke in the other's frame, so unlike before. And those soft eyes - there   
was something in them, something that made Bakura involuntarily shudder and recoil   
his hand.   
  
"Something went wrong for you, didn't it?" Ryou asked, in the same tone   
someone would whisper to a broken-winged bird.   
  
"Fuck you." Bakura responded, lashing out with another blow. He hit Ryou   
again and again, each angry blow rebounding and calling for the next.   
  
The other barely winced.   
  
Face sadly bruised, body pitifully trickling with blood, Ryou looked back at   
the other, unmoving. The boy brought a pale hand to the other's damaged, pain-  
wracked face, soothing the tense muscles with soft fingers.   
  
And now, the former darkwolf found that he was the one who was absolutely   
paralysed. He couldn't move as Ryou continued to stroke his face softly, bringing a   
hand to touch Bakura's wounds. The soothing fingers were replaced by a pair of soft   
lips, gingerly brushing against the cuts. They soon met the former darkwolf's own   
mouth, interlocking just briefly for one abashed moment before quickly retreating   
away.   
  
Ryou broke the touch, doleful brown eyes staring at the others. The soft white   
hair surrounding his face made him seem angelic, almost cherub-like.   
"What's your name?" He finally whispered, voice gentler still.   
  
Bakura stared. Half of him wanted to scream out again, but the other half had   
been subdued to a point of confusion. This boy - what was he doing? It hurt - it hurt   
so badly, but-  
  
"Bakura." The word escaped his lips, as if someone else had said it. And then,   
the moment was shattered, the former darkwolf breaking the gaze to look, almost   
ashamedly down at the ground.   
  
But not before he noticed an identical Millennium Ring hanging by Ryou's   
chest. It shone and glittered some, but seemed rather subdued and peaceful. His own   
Ring shone back.   
  
******************************************  
  
Bakura watched dully as the other bustled back and forth, the boy occasionally   
grabbing random items from shelves or hidden doors in a rather agitated state.   
Frankly, the darkwolf couldn't care less; he was an outcast, alone and stranded in this   
strange environment. It didn't really matter what happened to him now. Even as Ryou   
stumbled on the large wad of bloodied sheets he was carrying, falling to the ground   
with an ungainly thump, Bakura failed to notice. The former darkwolf continued his   
blank, listless gaze.   
  
Ryou muttered a few distilled versions of what would be profane words,   
rubbing his rump while glowering at the swathes of sheets. He then stood up, picking   
each sprawled sheet from the floor once again to rush downstairs.   
  
Seconds later, the boy re-emerged into the bathroom, glancing momentarily at   
the sulking Bakura sitting on the floor. Hesitantly, he offered a newly-obtained set of   
towels to the other, slightly afraid, as if offering food to a tiger.   
  
The former darkwolf did not notice, not even when the towels were waved up   
and down his blank line of vision. It wasn't until Ryou prodded Bakura that the former   
darkwolf broke from his reverie, glaring slightly at the boy before grabbing the   
blankets rather brusquely.   
  
Ryou shrugged, ignoring the action. The white-haired boy then slowly closed   
the bathroom door, slipping behind Bakura to turn on the shower. A rush of water   
escaped the nozzle, shooting out in a spurt of liquid heat and steam.   
  
Bakura started at the sound. He turned towards the source, and found himself   
staring at a highly unusual contraption. It was a chrome mouth, and it was spurting   
what seemed like an endless supply of _hot_ water.   
  
"What is that?" The former darkwolf suddenly said, staring at the showerhead   
with an expression bordering confusion and awe.   
  
For a moment, Ryou didn't respond, his mind not registering the fact that the   
other was actually talking to him. At last, the white-haired boy meekly answered. "It's   
called a shower. You turn up the knobs on the sides, and it can release either hot or   
cold water."  
  
Bakura snorted. "I can see that. But what is it for?"  
  
Ryou goggled. What type of person didn't know what a shower was or did?   
Then again, Bakura seemed barely human, always surrounded by a strange   
supernatural feeling, as if the other was something _else_. "Showers help clean your   
body. You step under the shower and the water will wash all the dirt from your skin."  
  
"Why would I need one?" Bakura curled his lip in disdain. "Water only   
washes away the external wounds. It does nothing to heal the internal ones."  
  
The white-haired boy raised a questioning eyebrow at the last comment,   
though he was hesitant to ask. Deciding that the other had been friendly   
enough, Ryou bit his tongue, walking towards the shower to test the water with his   
hand. It was slightly hot, but soothing to the touch.   
  
"Just try it." Ryou suggested. "The shower might not be able to do much for   
all your... wounds, but it does help subdue them."   
  
For a moment, it looked like Bakura was about to lose his temper then and   
there. There was a strangled look on the former darkwolf's face, hinting any emotion   
bordering irritation and anger. Fortunately, Bakura simply growled, glaring at the   
fountain of water before suddenly plunging into the midst of it. The warm water hit   
his back immediately, causing the former darkwolf to hiss in surprise and pain.   
  
As much as he had gone through and endured, Bakura was still Bakura, the   
same impatient, stubborn, and reckless individual he had been before his ordeal.   
Instead of backing away from the stunning sensation of pain and shock, the darkwolf   
stood firm, stubbornly embracing the feeling and letting the water pummel his back.   
Only moments later, the throbbing pain died to a slow ache, the hot water wrapping   
around Bakura's body and soothing his skin. Bakura closed his eyes, tense muscles   
gradually relaxing from the pummelling sensation. It was as if he was covered in a   
blanket of warmth, now blissfully oblivious to the world around him.  
  
The former darkwolf, arched his back, sliding his face into the trajectory of   
water, letting the liquid slide down his neck and chest. Even fully clothed, the water   
was able to cleanse and transfer its warmth to every part of his body. Brown and   
scarlet stains dribbled from his wet fabric and hair, slowly clearing a trail of pure   
colour against the splotches of ochre.   
  
Ryou smiled softly, watching the other literally purr under the shower. He still   
had his head of dry towels in his arms. He would need them soon. The hot water   
would not last forever.  
  
*************************************  
  
"So," Ryou began, breaking the long moment of silence, "Where did you   
come from?"  
  
Bakura started slightly in reaction to the sound. He had changed into a new set   
of clothing again, a pristine navy-blue shirt complete with matching jeans, somewhat   
too tight for comfort. The former darkwolf seemed to have a problem with buttons, so   
the shirt was parted in the front, exposing his lithe and slightly-muscular chest. Some   
of the scars on the skin were still evident, though the hot water had washed away the   
stains and grime.   
  
The former darkwolf grunted slightly before answering. "Don't know."  
  
Silence again.   
  
"Did you come from another country?" Ryou persisted, still trying to be   
friendly.   
  
Bakura glared at the other. What the hell was a 'country'? "I told you, I'm not   
from-" He stopped suddenly. How did he get here anyway?  
  
"I see." Ryou finally said. An impulsive question was playing in his mind,   
burning with curiousity. At first, it had seemed inappropriate, but soon, it became the   
only explanation. The white-haired boy finally decided to bite the bullet. "You're not   
human, are you?"  
  
The former darkwolf stared. He literally goggled at the boy, trying to figure   
out if there was something in his own appearance that gave away his identity. Not that   
it mattered. He was an exile; he was a darkwolf no longer. "No, I'm not human."  
  
The inevitable question came. "Then, what are you?"  
  
It was an innocent enough question, but Bakura immediately snarled, eyes   
flashing angrily. His mussed-up hair bristled in a threatening stance. "Fuck off."  
  
Ryou's eyes widened. Perhaps it was better not to ask. The white-haired boy   
quickly held his tongue, deciding that he would be safer spending the remainder of the   
day in silence.   
  
Therefore, it surprised the boy yet again when Bakura started speaking.   
  
"Where did you get your Millennium Ring?"  
  
A puzzled expression crossed Ryou's features, finally dawning to   
understanding. The Millennium Ring had to be the medallion that Bakura had been   
trying to remove, though the boy's own "Ring" was easily detachable.  
  
"Ah," Ryou faltered, choosing his words carefully lest he unwittingly offend   
the other. "My father gave it to me, as a present."  
  
Bakura's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't lie to me. He couldn't have just   
found it." No, the Millennium Ring was far more powerful than that; even its replica   
had to have a reason for existing.   
  
"I-it's the truth." Ryou stuttered, voice faltering under the other's glare.   
  
The anger in Bakura's eyes was replaced by a look of defeat. Why not? Why   
couldn't the Millennium Ring just be found? Maybe, in this world, the Ring had a   
different purpose, just like how Ryou, an almost identical replica of Bakura, was an entirely different individual underneath.  
  
And then, Bakura hit sudden inspiration. "Ryou," He began slowly, "Did you   
notice anything _special_ about your Millennium Ring?" A plan was working in his   
mind, far from innocent, almost unnaturally unorthodox. If his Ring had negative   
Power, then Ryou's Ring, being an exact opposite, must have positive Magick. And   
with Magick came a whole new chapter of possibilities. In fact, combine the Magick   
with his Darkwolf capabilities...  
  
"N-no." Ryou stuttered, disliking Bakura's suddenly smug expression. "Not   
any that I know of."  
  
Bakura nearly growled with impatience. Of course the boy wouldn't know!   
Humans, especially mortal humans, were blind to the uses of Magick. He shouldn't   
have been surprised.   
  
But now, as Bakura glanced once more at the other Millennium Ring, hanging   
from Ryou's neck, glistening like a gold-pleated rainbow, a strange feeling of both   
hope and excitement overwhelmed his thoughts.   
  
He could see it now, with his sharp darkwolf senses. Ryou's Ring didn't have   
just Magick. It had the ability of creating a portal between the Human and Darkwolf   
realms.  
  
The former darkwolf brushed an experimental tongue over his teeth in   
anticipation. Yes, revenge would be sweet.   
  
************************************  
  
It had taken Bakura a while to adjust to his strange surroundings.   
He once again surveyed his surroundings, glancing at everything with a rather   
distilled version of awe.   
  
Large, block like structures, which Ryou had dubbed "skyscrapers" shot   
upwards at a magnificent height, until they seemed to be touching the sky. The entire   
area was covered in hard, rock-like substances, save a few patches of grass, usually   
seen in front of squat, square structures, apparently where each human lived. Bakura   
felt like he had stuck his face into a geometric assemble. Everything was rectangular,   
square, circular, or arched with perfected symmetry. On occasion, a few trees   
protruded from the unyielding ground (sidewalk, Ryou said), though they were a   
motley collection; leaves a sickly yellow-green.   
  
It was imprinted upon Darkwolf instinct to survey or investigate one's   
surroundings before adjusting to them. Bakura would rather freeze in Hell than live in   
this damned place, though he didn't want to put himself at a disadvantage doing   
otherwise. Besides, the humans might have information about his task at hand.   
  
Bakura paced around aimlessly, though he could have sworn that he had   
passed that same lamp twice already. He furrowed his brows, thinking hard about the   
connection between the two Millennium Rings. Ryou's Ring had the ability to   
command powerful Magick, but the boy himself possessed no Magick to trigger the   
command. Which meant that Bakura was at a stalemate.   
  
The more Bakura thought of it, the angrier he got. He wanted power. He   
wanted to be able to shift back into his natural Darkwolf form, freed from his   
Millennium Ring's Power-draining spell, freed from his weakness. And most of all, he   
wanted revenge.   
  
"Excuse me."  
  
Bakura whirled around to challenge the voice. He met the foreign face of some   
human stranger, a harried female trailing a pestering human-cub behind her. The   
small child was jumping up and down in a frenzy of energy, screaming in an   
unnaturally shrill voice.   
  
"WHAT?" Bakura snarled, annoyed by his interruption. He was tempted to   
strangle the screaming child then and there, though he carefully restrained himself,   
lest he fall out of Ryou's "favour". After all, the former Darkwolf needed the boy to   
cooperate in order to carry out his plans.   
  
The woman huffed. "How rude, you insolent cur! I just wanted to ask you   
directions." And with that, she stormed away, still holding the child in one hand.   
  
"Bitch." Bakura muttered, glaring at the pair of humans. It was   
amazing how loudly human-cubs could scream; really, such a waste of energy.   
  
Wait!   
  
Bakura's Millennium Ring absorbed Power. And there was nothing special   
about power - it was just a concentrated form of energy. The former darkwolf's mind   
began racing again. If he could provide his own Ring with enough energy - Power - to   
be momentarily satiated, then he could override its curse! Of course, the curse would   
only be lifted until his Ring ran out of Power again. Yet, it was better than nothing.   
  
Bakura licked his lips in anticipation, running his tongue experimentally   
against his canines. Yes, he would start here. And once he had triggered the full use of   
both Millennium Rings, feeding his own Ring enough Power while fuelling the other   
with his Magick, then, he would pay a nice visit back to the Shadow World. Of   
course, there would still be some technical problems about Ryou, since the other Ring   
wouldn't even budge without its host. It sickened Bakura to think about a _human_   
meaning that much to him. The boy was a walking weakness for the former Darkwolf.   
  
He would sort that out later. Right now, what really mattered was driving   
away the negative Power of his Millennium Ring - to satiate its demand. Bakura   
grinned.   
  
Yes, humans _indeed_ had a lot of energy, more than they could ever need. Tonight,   
he would go soul-stealing....  
  
**********************************  
  
"W-where are we going?" Ryou stuttered. The boy couldn't believe that   
Bakura had dragged him all the way here. It was a good thing that his father had gone   
out on an expedition in Egypt, or else, he would have been severely punished. Then   
again, if his father were here, none of this would have ever happened.   
  
"Somewhere." Again, Bakura had a smug reply to his voice. The former   
darkwolf wouldn't let the boy spoil his mood; he had spent most of the trek ignoring   
the protests of the boy.   
  
Bakura had discovered something quite unusual about the two Millennium   
Rings. He could sense Ryou's presence through his own Ring, and had a good feeling   
that Ryou could do the same. As pathetic as it sounded, it was almost like the Rings   
had forced a bond or connection between the two.   
  
The sky was pitch-black, a familiar shadowy layer that spread across the entire   
area. Strange, artificial lights glimmered slightly overhead, illuminating the streets in   
a random assortment of pale orange-yellow. A full moon hung in the sky,   
accompanied by dotted specks of stars.   
  
Tap. Tap. Tap.   
  
Bakura's keen senses heard it before Ryou could even guess. The former   
Darkwolf broke into a sadistic grin, baring his teeth just slightly. Now, the hunt   
began.   
  
"Bakura." Ryou persisted, voice meek and subdued. "I-I think we should go   
back. It's dangerous here."  
  
'Yes', Bakura thought to himself, careful to conceal his expression. 'It _is_   
dangerous. For them.' The boy looked so helpless, that the former Darkwolf was   
tempted for a moment to try and reassure him. No- he could not think like that. Ryou   
was carrion, only an extra piece of luggage.   
Yet, Bakura had another reason for bringing Ryou, one entirely unrelated to   
the Magick of the boy's Ring. Ryou was weak, pathetic, and most of all, he was a   
_human_. A human in the Shadow Realm was a dead one.   
  
Bakura glanced slightly at the full moon overhead. It could only be done once   
per full Moon, and by only the most desperate, power-hungry Darkwolves. Now, the   
former Darkwolf's eyes trailed back onto Ryou's figure. Once he had stopped his   
curse, once he regained his Darkwolf self, then, he would carry it out. Bakura's grin   
grew wider as Ryou looked at him with wide, innocent eyes.   
  
"Stay here, Ryou." Bakura commanded, amusing himself with the fear   
prevalent in the boy's expression. "I'm going to get...something."  
  
"Y-you'll come back, won't you?" Ryou whispered, slightly terrified.   
  
Pathetic. Such a clinging dependency. Yet, Bakura thought with a slightly   
pained twinge, it was all that he had. "Of course." The former Darkwolf tried his best   
to hide the contempt soaking into his voice. "And then, we can go back." Right. After   
something else.   
  
Ryou gave a meek nod of consent, watching the former Darkwolf slink, and   
then disappear, into the dark shadows. The boy gulped slightly, feeling exposed in his   
lone state. He closed his eyes, and tried to make himself as inconspicious as possible.  
  
***************************************  
  
Kazuhiro Ishizuka was a busy man. He had spent the entire day phoning   
people, attending conferences, making sure that things simply got done. The man   
groaned slightly, stretching his back. He had refused a ride from his colleague simply   
for the simple fact: he was getting fat.   
  
Now, Kazuhiro re-adjusted his tie in mid-step, shifting the position of his   
briefcase just slightly. His mind pondered over the day's events, and he suddenly   
realized that he had forgotten to phone his wife. Immediately, the middle-aged man's   
chubby fingers strayed to his cell phone.   
  
He was about to dial the number, when a chilling shudder shot through his   
body, stopping him dead in his tracks. It was as if a pair of lethal, venomous eyes   
were watching him from the darkness. Slowly, the businessman turned around,   
gulping loudly to face the source.   
  
It was a youth, leaning against a lamppost. The light reflected at an odd angle,   
so that everything but the youth was cast in a flickering orange glow. Only the eyes of   
this strange person reflected under the light, a startling amber-brown, gleaming   
predatorily.  
  
Kazuhiro shook his head. It was just another one of those teenage punks, and   
probably a drug addict, to be out this late at night. The businessman ignored the figure   
and continued to walk.   
  
That is, until the figure approached him.   
  
Kazuhiro put down his cell phone. "What do you want?" The man exclaimed   
rather irritatedly. There was something about this teen's eyes that slightly unnerved   
the man.   
  
The teen was getting startlingly close, now intruding into Kazuhiro's self-  
conscious bubble of privacy. The businessman noted with startled eyes that this teen   
had demonic _silver_ hair. What type of punk would dye his hair silver? Kazuhiro   
started to back away as the teen neared him until they were literally face-to-face.  
  
Without warning, the white-haired youth grabbed Kazuhiro by the shirt. The   
businessman shuddered, suddenly paralysed on the spot. Those eyes...  
  
"What do I want?" The silver-haired youth repeated, tone perfectly smooth.   
His controlled, placid face suddenly broke into a sadistic grin. "Your soul."  
  
Bakura's Millennium Ring flashed erratically as it fed on the energies of this   
hapless man. There was a chaotic whirl of light surrounding both figures before   
finally coming to a silent standstill.   
  
Bakura dropped the figure of the lifeless man to the ground, a satisfied smile   
playing on his lips.   
  
************************************************  
  
Life was about power. It was about those who controlled, and those who were   
controlled. Bakura rested his hand on the cord of his ring, fingers brushing over its   
slightly warm surface.   
  
And he was in control. For now.   
  
The former Darkwolf retraced his steps back towards the other. Now, Bakura   
could feel his Darkwolf Magick returning back into his body, coursing through his   
veins, no longer confined by his Millennium Ring. Yes, his plan had gone well.   
  
He could see Ryou, still looking around aimlessly. The boy jumped as he felt   
Bakura's presence, giving a faint sigh of relief.   
"C-can we leave now?" Ryou whispered softly.   
  
Bakura could have laughed long and hard. The boy thought he was going home.   
The former Darkwolf would have fun shattering Ryou's misconception. Delightful.  
  
"Come here." Bakura commanded. He was amused by the boy's obedience.   
Gently, Bakura placed his hand around Ryou's neck, sliding it slightly so that it   
caressed the boy's cheek. "I want to show you something."  
  
Ryou was petrified. The look on Bakura's eyes was hypnotic; he was frozen on   
the spot. It was as if nothing else mattered save the other's commands. The white-haired   
boy tried to struggle, to back away, but his body would not obey.   
  
The former Darkwolf chuckled, seeing the fear in the boy's eyes. "You can't   
stop yourself, can you?" He murmured, mind tingling in delight. "You are mine."  
  
It was a possessive statement, said with perfect furiousity. Ryou knew what   
was coming next. He mentally shuddered as Bakura neared him, and could feel the   
other's elated breath pressing against his skin.   
  
Slowly at first, Bakura leaned over, locking contact with the boy's lips. There   
was no resistance; they had done this before, and it felt right. Yet, this time, instead of   
slipping his tongue in to demand the other's access, Bakura let his lips slowly slide   
from Ryou's mouth to his chin. The former Darkwolf brushed his tongue along the   
boy's neck, hand holding the boy in a tight grip to prevent the other from even   
thinking of escaping.   
  
Ryou moaned slightly. He couldn't help it. There was a taste of perfect,   
sensual pleasure in every stroke of the other's tongue, a fiery feeling of lust radiating   
around the other's presence. The white-haired boy felt himself unconsciously leaning   
towards the other's touch, unable to resist.   
  
Bakura was careful not to lose his concentration, continuing to slide his mouth   
down Ryou's soft, perfect skin until it was at the base of the boy's neck. He hungrily   
unbuttoned the top portion of Ryou's shirt, exposing part of the boy's chest and   
shoulders. The Darkwolf could felt the slight aberration in the skin; this was the first   
cut, the first scar he had inflicted on the boy. Bakura's tongue pinpointed the exact   
spot before he acted, suddenly digging his sharpened canines into the boy's flesh. He   
could feel the other gasp in pain, trying to shrink away, but the former Darkwolf's   
firm hands prevented such actions. He sunk his teeth down harder until they touched   
part of Ryou's collarbone, allowing the blood to dribble and cascade down the boy's   
gleaming-white chest. Some of the liquid trickled into Bakura' mouth, and he tasted it   
with an experimental tongue. Ryou was jerking convulsively now, gasping in pure   
agony. Sweat collected around the boy's eyes, and his shirt clung on to his skin,   
slightly damp.   
  
Finally, Bakura withdrew his teeth, cleaning them with a brush of his tongue.   
He watched the Ryou relax slightly, still holding onto the boy's arms in restraint.   
  
The full moon glistened overhead, resting its gaze over the two figures.   
Bakura could feel the aroused excitement within his Darkwolf senses, seeking to roam   
free in the night under its influence. He suppressed the urge - there was still this ritual   
to complete.   
  
Bakura raised his arm, looking at his scarred skin. And then, he brought his   
forearm towards his mouth, sinking his teeth down into his own flesh. Crimson blood   
swirled around the new wound, some escaping to drip onto the ground. With a   
satisfied smirk, the former Darkwolf examined his bloodied forearm, bringing it   
towards Ryou's neck. In a sudden flex of movement, Bakura pressed his cut against   
Ryou's bleeding one, so that both exposed wounds collided in a splurge of scarlet. For   
a moment, the two foreign bloods swirled around each other tentatively before finally   
creeping into the other's, mixing and then entering the other's body.   
  
Human blood meant nothing to Bakura. It was a harmless, useless substance,   
like drinking water, or breathing air. Yet, the properties of Darkwolf blood were   
infamous. Darkwolves lived incredibly long lifespans, undergoing a consistent pattern   
of death and rebirth. Darkwolf blood also had amazing curative properties, if exposed   
in the right conditions, explaining the immediate healing rate Darkwolves experienced   
when shifting from their wolf forms to their human counterparts.   
  
Yet, most of all, Darkwolf blood contained the shape-shifting Magick. It did   
not mean anything to other Darkwolves, or Vampires, the latter having their own   
specific genes. Yet, to humans, who had no exposure to the supernatural, it was   
exceedingly powerful. A drop of Darkwolf blood had the potential to change them   
forever.   
  
A full moon, and the Darkwolf's will. Bakura had both of these to ensure the   
ritual. Ryou was now unnaturally calm in Bakura's arms, the boy's eyes glazed over,   
face expressionless. The silver-haired outcast removed his forearm, hissing slightly   
from the slight pain. Bakura then licked off the scattered blood from his wound, and,   
after some reluctant debate, did the same to Ryou's. The other was unconscious now,   
limp form resting against Bakura's chest so that his chin was propped on the   
Darkwolf's shoulder. The Millennium Ring around Ryou's neck began to flicker, and   
suddenly flare up in light, as if awoken from a deep sleep.   
  
Which could be true, in a sense. A pity Ryou was unconscious - Bakura would   
have liked to test his theory now. The former Darkwolf could already see some subtle   
changes taking place: slightly sharpened teeth in the mimicry of canines, sleek white   
fur running just slightly along Ryou's arms. Most of all, he could feel the Darkwolf   
Magick running along in the boy's blood, Magick that would strengthen Ryou's   
physical strength beyond any human's capability.   
  
Bakura's Millennium Ring prevented Ryou from becoming a complete Darkwolf, since   
Bakura himself could only infest his Magick intermittently. Thus, Ryou would only be   
able to shift during certain intervals; still pathetically human most of the time.   
  
Bakura would be patient. Give or take a few more days, the silver-haired   
outcast would return back to the Shadow Realm. There was plenty of Power and Magick  
in the Shadow Realm - definately more than needed. Then, Ryou would no longer be a problem, and then, he would finally extract his revenge.   
  
The silver-haired outcast closed his eyes, calling within his once-forgotten   
Magick. He allowed it once more to come alive, mingling with his body, becoming   
part of him. Slowly at first, skin sprouted fur, hind legs readjusting, backbone   
lengthening into a plumed tail. Ryou was still slung over his back, in a half-lying   
position, head pressed against one of Bakura's pointed ears.   
  
Now fully in wolven form, Bakura trotted off, careful not to let his "luggage"   
fall. This strange city smelt like metal and acid, rotting with putrid scents that wanted   
to make the silver-furred Darkwolf gag. Bakura lifted his muzzle, looking around the   
abandoned streets with a slight grin of satisfaction. He could feel the influence of the   
moon against his figure, the soft beams bathing his fur a glistening shade of platinum-  
silver.   
A single, wavering cry shot through the once-silent city. There was no sorrow   
nor pity in its tone.  
  
This time, it was a cry of tribute. And even when the tone died away, its echo   
of vengeful promise remained.   
  
***************************************  
  
End notes:  
  
Zoo: YEAH! I'm done! This chapter only took me... about a month!  
  
Eevee muse: *rolls eyes* Good thing that you only do the even chapters.   
  
FC: Well, good news everybody! It looks like people actually like our fic!  
  
*A moment of silence ensues, followed by katakana rolling in the background   
spelling out "HWOOOOOOOOOO~~~"*  
  
Zoo: *blink blink* FC, what have you been drinking?  
  
FC: I'm serious! We actually have reviews!  
  
Flareon muse: You haven't been reviewing under different pen names have you, FC?   
*suspicious eyes*  
  
FC: *sobs* Why are you so mean to me? There are actually people who enjoy this fic!   
And I would like to thank them all for reviewing. *hands reviewers various   
Yuugi/Yami vampire and Ryou/Y.Bakura darkwolf plushies.*  
  
Zoo: *stares* I'm in awe.   
  
Eevee muse: Yes, me too. Where does FC get those plushies anyway?  
  
Zoo: *facefault* Not that! I mean, I actually have fans? *big teary eyes* I feel so   
loved! I'm actually recognized for my hard work!  
  
Flareon muse: *aside to the Eevee muse* I think they're just here for the vampires.   
  
Eevee muse: *aside to Flareon muse* Oh well. At least it'll keep her preoccupied.   
  
FC: *oblivious to it all* ^_^ Well, read and review, and I'll promise a nice chappy   
next time! 


	7. Rendezvous and Juxtaposition

Disclaimer: We own it I tell you! It's all ours mwahahahaha! *FC gets dragged away by Muses*   
  
Zoo: You think this would be a fic if we did own Yu-Gi-Oh!? XD so, of course, we don't own it! ;_;  
  
FC: Wohoo! Great work with your chapter Zoo-chan ^_^ you had plenty in it and I don't feel as sorry   
for Bakura now   
  
Flareon Muse: is that a good thing?  
  
Zoo & Eevee Muse: *shrug* Wouldn't know   
  
Flareon Muse: XD  
  
FC: anywho I apologise again for my bad authoring in not getting this chapter out for ages but I've had   
exams, then Christmas shopping, then Christmas then New Year and then I get banned from going   
online so I couldn't get this out ~.~ so it was ready earlier I just couldn't get it to you. I'm sorry to both   
you the readers and Zoo-chan for making you all wait.  
  
Zoo: …  
  
FC: I'm sorry!!!!!!! ;_;  
  
enjoy peeps ^______^  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
"…Instead, only try to realise the truth.  
What truth?  
There is no spoon"  
  
- The Matrix  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Chapter 7- Rendezvous and Juxtaposition  
  
This happened every morning!  
  
Yuugi ran down the stairs, feet pounding loudly against the worn carpet, faded colours showing signs   
of age. He glanced at his watch, fully aware that he was late anyway. Dashing into the kitchen, he slid   
to a stop beside the fridge, yanking the door open in a hunt for breakfast.  
  
Bread found itself thrown into the emerald toaster, orange juice cascaded into a waiting glass. What   
had he forgotten?   
  
"Yami!"   
  
Yuugi ran back through the kitchen, unsure of where the vampire actually was. A vague remembrance   
of the living room at 3:30 in the morning stuck the boy, turning his attention to the specific room. He   
reached the open doorway, violet eyes catching a direct glance at the still sleeping vampire, his   
demonically angelic face peaceful as he slept; oblivious to the world around him.   
  
Yuugi's heart pulled at him not to disturb the beautiful vampire but school beckoned both of them. He   
moved to the Vampire King, small hands resting on his arm as he shook Yami gently. The vampire   
groaned, moving his arm away from Yuugi's soft touch as he tried to remain asleep.  
Yuugi persisted with his shaking, shouting at Yami to enforce his need for the darkness to get up.   
"Yami we're gonna be late if you don't get up! C'mon!"  
  
Yami frowned, snapping crimson eyes open as he glared at Yuugi, irritated by his ceaseless shaking   
and yelling. He sat up, swatting at Yuugi's hand as he stood, flexing his refreshed muscles.  
  
"At last! C'mon we've gotta go now!" Yuugi insisted, grabbing Yami's arm once again; pulling him   
through to the kitchen.  
  
Yami smiled inwardly at the teenager's actions, his small frame hurried in the morning rush due to   
sleeping in. Waking up was probably the one thing Yuugi was _not_ good at doing to fit his perfect   
organisation. But, hey, he was a regular teenager, nothing less was expected.  
  
Yami found himself out the door walking quickly towards Domino High before he could say greased   
lightning. He walked at his usual pace, long strides stepping out so Yuugi had a hard time keeping up   
with him.  
  
"Where did you learn to walk so fast?!"   
  
Yami chuckled dryly at the comment, slowing down slightly for the short freshman. "I didn't learn, it's   
just natural" he remarked, looking up; spying the school as it loamed up in front of the pair.   
  
Yuugi huffed at the answer his mind registering it as totally unnatural to walked _that_ fast. But then   
Yami wasn't natural in this world, he never would be out of folks tales and legends. He wasn't meant   
to be, not to Earth's inhabitants. Yuugi wasn't prejudice- he had no right in his own eyes to judge   
someone who wasn't like him. How can anyone help how they were born?  
  
Yami glanced at Yuugi, seeing his deep expression, thought written over his face. "Care to share what   
you're thinking about with a curious vampire?"  
  
Yuugi looked up, the glazed look leaving his gentle lavender eyes. "This and that, nothing important."  
  
Yami nodded, boots crunching on the gravel as he entered the school grounds, summer grass glistening   
with morning dew, crystal-like droplets hanging from the blades. Various students who still hadn't   
entered the main building yet smiled at the pair as they walked past. Several girls looked at Yami and   
smiled, giggling when he gave a vague smile back. Yuugi saw his unnerved expression, mildly   
confused by the girl's reactions.  
  
"Looks like you've got some admirers." Yami's headed jerked down as he looked at Yuugi.  
  
"I don't want any!"   
  
Yuugi laughed at the vampire's negative response, shaking his head in amusement as they entered the   
building; the piercing bell ringing out its shrill message.   
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Jou glanced over at Yami who appeared to be paying no attention to the dragging lesson, their teacher's   
irritating voice seemingly unheard by him. He didn't want to be there as much as the vampire, blond   
bangs swept away from his face with a slender finger. The teen turned his chocolate gaze back round to   
the front of the class, peering at the perplexing diagrams of chemical bonds and equations that littered   
the dirtied board. It didn't make any sense to him even if he tried concentrating.  
  
What was the point in attempting the impossible?  
  
Instead the blonde settled back in his seat, eye drooping in fatigue before closing completely. That was   
his comeuppance for staying out late the night beforehand.   
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami also understood none of this- education in his world was much more simple than this. It was the   
basic know your boundaries and stick to them along with how to hunt successfully. Reading and   
writing was compulsory for the vampires- they knew their ancient language, their modern language and   
the language of the darkwolves. Vampires were highly intelligent beings and they lived up to that   
reputation. But chemistry definitely was _not_ part of that intelligence.   
  
Yami knew all he needed to and this crap wasn't classed in that category. The Vampire King resolved   
his boredom by planning his next hunt and how he would go about it. A glimpse of a smirk flickered   
across his face as his next sadistic idea formed in a devious mind.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Honda glanced up as the school secretary entered the classroom, interrupting the teacher in the middle   
of her ionic bond speech. She whispered something hurriedly before receiving a serious nod from the   
chemistry professor. She walked out, heeled shoes clicking against the polished floor.  
  
"An immediate assembly has been called by Mr. Jackson so I want you all to go straight to the   
gymnasium."  
  
Honda stood, along with the rest of the class, his books sitting abandoned on his desk as he nudged Jou,   
waking the blond, before filing out of the room; meeting Yuugi, Yami and Anzu in the corridor.  
  
"I wonder what this assembly's 'bout," Jou muttered, hands resting deep in his jean pockets, "they   
never call one less it's real important."  
  
Anzu shrugged, just as clueless as the rest of them. "I don't know, but by the looks of it the whole   
school's been called to it."  
  
Yuugi walked silently with Yami, brief ideas of what the assembly could be about, one in particular   
sticking in his head, refusing to budge as it appeared to be one of the most obvious answers.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Domino students sat restlessly on the gymnasium benches, their constant discussions forming into a   
huge roar of noise. It annoyed Yami to no end, what was the point in discussing ideas _before_ they   
knew what this meeting was about? It made no sense.  
  
"Look! There's Mr. Jackson!" Honda called so he could be heard above the deafening sea of voices.  
  
An eerie silence bestowed the gym, bright and dull faces alike staring down expectantly at the school's   
head. His face was grave, wispy chestnut hair brushed back though it continued to stand up in a   
stubborn fashion. Brown eyes, flecked with green darts, were downcast as he stepped up to the   
microphone set up on a stage in front of the school's pupils.  
  
"You are probably wondering why I called an immediate assembly and I apologise for interrupting   
your classes," Mr. Jackson's voice was sombre, enhanced by the speakers set up close to him. "Some   
of you may have heard about a string of recent murders in this area, all committed brutally. Another   
two people were found in the woods east of here. They were students here at Domino High Akio   
Tosodo and Hiroshi Meho. Due to these recent events it has been strongly advised by both me and the   
police that you do not go out alone or for long periods of time until this murderer is found. Please be   
aware that this person is _very_ dangerous and is possibly working with another."  
  
Yuugi glanced across nervously at Yami, who seemed to take no interest in what the Principal was   
saying except when he said about working with someone else. The vampire gained a slightly insulted   
look from this comment but other than that he showed no emotion to the subject.  
  
"And if you have any information about who the murder is then please tell the police immediately."  
  
Yuugi knew exactly who it was but he could never tell anyone, not only would they not believe him in   
saying Yami was a vampire, but he would have betrayed the vampire, and that was something he could   
not do to a friend.  
  
But, was that what Yami was to Yuugi?  
  
A friend?  
  
Or was he something less or maybe more? Whatever he was to the freshman it meant that he still could   
not tell anyone about Yami. Besides, he has promised the vampire he would not say to anyone about   
him. Yuugi didn't break promises.  
  
The still hall yelled out with angry and curious shouts along with sorrowful ones from friends of   
Yami's latest victims, mingling together once more in a inquisitive jumble. Students began to stand,   
moving from their seats as directed by their teachers; back to their classes.  
  
Yuugi's group moved away, each were silent as they walked alone with separate thoughts.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Quiet whispers ran around the school for the majority of the day, rumours of who or _what_ mutilated   
and slaughtered so many in so few days. Suspicious glances flickered over the room, enemies staring at   
each other but the main rumour centred itself around Yami.  
  
A teenager's mind is overly complex, most of the time it centred itself around social activities and   
exuberance. But in small corners it operated with curiosity, logical theories forming in these areas. And   
it didn't take much for some of the students to put two and two together.  
  
Was it, or was it not highly suspicious that these murders started around the time that Yami came?   
Someone who looks exactly like Yuugi, except for the slightest differences in height and facial   
features, who no one appears to know much about; who faces one of the toughest boys in the school   
without flinching and scares him half to death. And from what he had said there was something strange   
almost sinister about this new guy.  
  
"He's a monster! And I ain't tellin' no lie!"  
  
Ok, let's rewind a bit and look at the word monster. A monster is considered as something evil, most   
are hideous to look upon and feared by many; often related with the word fiend.  
  
Yami?  
  
Evil, yes.   
  
Hideous, no.  
  
He was quite the opposite, beautiful ivory skin enhancing dangerously glistening crimson eyes,   
crowned with curious ebony spikes edged with blood fronted with lightning gold bangs. He was   
shockingly beautiful- all eyes turned to him in an instant of him entering a room. If it was one thing he   
could never be described as, it was hideous.   
  
Yuugi had observed the crude rumours and looks throughout the afternoon, all of them had been   
dissolved by Yami's icy stare. The vampire didn't appear to be directly affected by any of it- he didn't   
care what mere humans thought. Maybe it was better that way; then the risk of people getting hurt was   
far less.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yuugi sat on his bed, gazing up at the whitewashed ceiling, violet eyes wandering over the bumpy   
surface.   
  
Yami sat at the foot of the boy's bed, his pale skin seemingly glowing in the dying sunlight that filtered   
in through the open window. Both had hardly spoken since they had left school, Yuugi wanting   
answers to the questions his mind whispered silently, though his imagination's idea of some of them   
held him back in fear; Yami deep in thought about returning to his own world the next day. The   
resulting atmosphere was awkward between the two.   
  
Yuugi stood quietly, making his way over to his cluttered wardrobe, the doors opening with an   
expected creak. The youth sorted through various tops and jackets before pulling out a favourite grey   
jacket, edged with black.  
  
Sliding his arms out of his school jacket, Yuugi unbuttoned the creased white shirt underneath   
shrugging it off, revealing the navy blue leather top he wore. It hugged his thin frame clinging to every   
curve of his torso, buckles lining the front, his Millennium Puzzle making a quiet `ping` against them.   
He removed his neck belt, rubbing the back of his neck with a soft hand where the leather had   
previously sat.  
  
Yami watched all of this with suppressed breath, hungry crimson eyes wandering over the perfect   
body, from the slender arms to the curved lines of his back; down to his lower back, which curved ever   
so slightly. Yami felt his heart pounding against his ribcage as he watched, Yuugi seeming to have   
forgotten about his company.   
  
The boy looked down when a shirt that had been half falling from one of the wardrobe shelves finally   
slid down, landing near his feet. He frowned and bent over to pick it up.  
  
Yami let a subtle gasp slip through his lips at the sight, those lustful eyes locked on the smaller boy's   
rear until he stood up straight; throwing the shirt back on it's shelf. This time Yami restrained a growl   
of disappointment, snapping his eyes up when Yuugi turned to face him; pale arms slipping through his   
jacket sleeves.  
  
"C'mon!" The teen pulled Yami's arm, making the vampire rise from his position on the bed. Yuugi   
kept his hold on his arm, leading out of the room and down the stairs.  
  
Yami's brows furrowed moderately at the human's strange behaviour. "Where are we going?"  
  
"I'm not spending my last night in this world by sitting and moping at home, so we're going to one of   
my favourite places" Yuugi answered matter-of-factly, his voice tinted with sorrow and something else.   
But what?  
  
Pain.  
  
It hurt Yuugi. The thought of leaving his home world _hurt_ the youth. He loved it that much? But why   
would he agree to go with Yami, to let the vampire return home when he knew he would be forfeiting   
his own life here? That was another mystery that plagued Yami's mind.  
  
Why?  
  
The pair walked on, past streets, past the library and various shops; Yami realising where they were   
headed as they went on.   
  
They were going to his playground. Or at least somewhere near it.  
  
Yami said nothing as they entered the forest, their pace slowing to a leisurely one, Yuugi breathing in   
the soft scent of pine needles as he stepped over a fallen log. He led the way, still heading in a   
particular direction.  
  
"Yuugi?"  
  
Yami couldn't hold back his curiosity any longer he _had_ to know.  
  
"Yes?" Yuugi answered, turning gentle violet eyes up to the hardened face of the vampire.  
  
Yami opened his mouth, his words caught in his throat momentarily. He swallowed and tried again.   
"Why did you agree to come back with me when you knew you may never be able to come back to this   
world?"  
  
Yuugi giggled quietly, surprising the Vampire King with his reaction. "You know the answer to that,   
you just think you don't."  
  
This reply bemused Yami even further- he saw no logic in the child's words. "How so?"  
  
"You know deep down inside because of the fact that if you are my true yami then you know me better   
than anyone; even if you think you don't. I agreed to go with you because I couldn't live with knowing   
I'd prevented you from going back where you want to. I couldn't do it to anyone especially not…a   
friend."  
  
Friend?   
  
Yami was bewildered. Yuugi actually considered him as a friend. He who had literally dropped into the   
youth's life, told him what he had to do without giving him much choice, frightened him and, well,   
eaten the people around him. And yet through all of this he was still considered a friend.  
  
Time for another rewind.  
  
Friend- one attached to another by affection, a favourer, one who is propitious, a favourite.  
  
Yuugi deemed the vampire as this?  
  
"You-you consider me a friend?"  
  
"Well if I can't be friends with my other half who can I be friends with?"  
  
Yami chuckled at his answer. "Good point."  
  
As Yami's chuckle died down, his keen hearing picked out a sound on the wind. He stopped and   
looked back, trying to pinpoint the sound.  
  
"What is it?"   
  
//Quiet! There's something out there. Wait here//  
  
Yuugi watched as Yami slid off into the trees, making no sound as he went.  
  
/Wait! where're you going?/  
  
//I'll be back in a minute just stay put//  
  
Baffled by Yami's actions, Yuugi stood in the diminutive clearing, his sneaker connecting with a loose   
pebble resting on the dusty ground.   
  
Five minutes passed and still Yami didn't return. Light fell in specific lines through gaps in the trees,   
thick and thin all side by side.  
  
An uneasy feeling rose in the pit of Yuugi's stomach, growing as the seconds rolled by. His head   
turned sharply as the bushes behind him rustled quietly. He turned slowly, unsure of whether the sound   
was just the wind or whether it was something else.  
  
But there was no wind.  
  
As the youth turned something leapt from the bushes, mottled fur flashing in the sunlight.  
  
"Yuugi watch out!"  
  
Something else smashed into Yuugi's side, dragging him out of the way as the thing leapt at him, claws   
still catching him arm; as he fell to the ground.  
  
Yami rose from on top of the boy, facing the creature that had leapt out. The wolf snarled at him, it's   
moth-eaten grey fur coated in dust. It leapt at Yami, yellowed teeth bared as it aimed for his throat.   
  
Yami swung at the creature, powerful arms knocking it to the ground. The wolf looked up, dark eyes   
wide with fear as the vampire bared his own teeth, canines frighteningly long; crimson eyes burning   
like wild fire. It stood, head cowering low, ears back as it backed off, before running into the   
surrounding foliage. The vampire turned back to Yuugi, kneeling down beside him.  
  
"It was just a wolf. Are you alright Yuugi?" Yami looked at the boy's arm, his rolled up sleeves saved   
from the claws, though two long grazes were etched into his skin, warm blood collecting around the   
wounds.  
  
Yuugi winced slightly, violet eyes blinking back watery tears. "I-I'm fine. Thank-you Yami."  
  
Yami inspected the twin cuts, desperately trying to contain the urge to lick off the dripping blood.   
"They aren't too deep you'll live."  
  
Yuugi watched the vampire's face intently, seeing the hungry look flashing through the depths of his   
eyes. "You can…y'know, if you want."  
  
Yami couldn't believe his ears. Yuugi had freely said he could take the blood his senses lusted after as   
they watched it. He swallowed and looked into Yuugi's face, noticing the calm gaze he held, that face   
knew no fear only trust. He returned his eyes to the wound, the youth's arm tingeing red.  
  
Yuugi watched as the vampire let go of his arm, taking hold of the thin white vest he wore over the   
leather shirt. The boy watched as Yami ripped a long strip from the vest, wrapping the material around   
his arm.   
  
"You should not tempt me with your blood. If I took it I could not resist taking more. I-I will not drink   
from you less it causes unnecessary harm."  
  
Yuugi nodded, seeing the inner war featured in Yami's face as he finished tying off the make-shift   
bandage.   
  
"Thank-you."   
  
Yami nodded and helped him to his feet. "Did you want to go back or carry on to wherever we were   
going?"  
  
Yuugi snorted. "No scratch is gonna stop me going there on my last night."  
  
The Vampire King gave a faint smile at the human's determination, walking behind him as they set off   
down narrow path, emerald foliage mingled with the soft yellows and browns of the season.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Thick trees thinned out at the edge of the dense woodland, rough waves throwing themselves against   
the rugged cliff face. Foamy white horses rolled over the sea, it's bulk hiding the secrets within dark   
mists.  
  
Yami sat next to Yuugi near the edge of the cliff, jagged blond bangs blowing back with the ocean   
breeze. He glanced at the youth, Yuugi sitting thoughtfully as he stared out towards the setting sun. the   
vampire turned his steely look away, watching the fiery colours of the sun melt into the distant horizon.  
  
"You're going to kill me aren't you?"  
  
The question caught Yami by surprise. He turned to look at Yuugi, only to find the teen already   
looking at him.   
  
"I-"  
  
Was he?   
  
Yami didn't know. What would happen when he got back? He knew it had never been heard of for a   
vampire to live with a human- a human's only purpose in the shadowed world was to serve as food.   
  
But how could he kill Yuugi?   
  
Yami might be a brutal killer, but Yuugi was his Hikari. His Light. How could he extinguish something   
so innocent and pure in sheer greed?  
  
Yami sighed, turning crimson eyes to the ground. "I don't know what is going to happen. Humans are   
considered inferior by much of my kind. We'll find a way to sort this out. But I swear to you on my   
honour, nothing will harm you while I am there to protect you."  
  
Yuugi felt slightly reassured by Yami's promise, but when he didn't know what was going to happen   
once they were there, how could he promise something like that?  
  
The teen looked at the dying sun, the glancing down at his watch. "We'd better get going. I said I'd   
meet up with Jou and the others tonight. Did you wanna come out with us?"  
  
"I think I'll stay out here in the woods for a while, you can go with your friends. I'll go through the   
forest with you. Just go home first and bandage that arm properly."  
  
Yuugi nodded and stood silently, wincing as his arm throbbed mildly. Yami began walking, Yuugi by   
his side, turning back to gaze at the ocean for the last time. Would he ever see it again?  
  
Sighing, Yuugi turned away following the vampire, his back turned to the beautiful yet restless sight.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami stood on the edge of the woodland, shadows dancing across his expressionless face as he   
watched the youth make his way down towards the city; hands buried in his jean pockets, his steps   
quick as he walked.  
  
Yami turned away, crimson eyes glistening in the dying sunlight. His stomach gave a rumbling growl   
as he stepped back into the trees, the cloaking darkness wrapping around his lean figure. Hunting was   
going to be harder since the city was aware of what he did and people were becoming frightened to go   
anywhere near the woodlands, fear of death gripping wary minds with growing panic.   
  
But wait…  
  
Yami's acute senses picked out something on the wind. He turned in that direction, following the smell   
he picked up. A human smell.  
  
Someone who did not listen to the advice of others.  
  
Yami gave a rare grin, eye flashing sadistically as he broke into a run, his body filled with a lust for   
blood. Ideas swarmed through a mind filled with that lust and every sadistic way of death imaginable.   
There was more to killing than just eating, as the human would soon learn.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
"Fuck! Where the bloody hell is he? Bastard should a been here 10 bloody minutes ago!"  
  
Foot connecting with a nearby tree, the 25 year old took his rage out on the dead plant, brows furrowed   
in anger. Spiky black hair stood up straight held in place by stiff gel. He took a drag from the cigarette   
he held between his fingers, blue smoke escaping through his nose, travelling with the wind blowing it   
away. Several butts littered the ground around him, orange colours unnatural next to the dark soil.  
  
His temper didn't improve as the time went on, his cursing rolling off his tongue in long streams. He   
turned as leaves crunched behind him. He turned to see a youth appear through the trees, silver spikes   
lining his neck, his hair standing up taller than his own. He took a final drag from his cigarette before   
dropping it on the ground beside the previous ones.  
  
"What the hell do you want?"  
  
The youth shrugged and leaned against one of the other trees.  
  
"Nothing. Just waiting for someone."  
  
The guy nodded, his defensive attitude dropping when he saw the teen was harmless. Drawing his   
cigarette packet from a pocket he offered one to the youth.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami took the cigarette, unsure of _what_ it exactly did- he'd been watching the guy smoke it for the   
past few minutes and saw nothing happen to him except for the smoke he exhaled.  
  
The man took one for himself, taking out a cheap red lighter and lighting both cigarettes. He took an   
instant drag from it, Yami keeping his behind his fingers, refusing to drag from it.  
  
"You shouldn't be out 'ere with that murderer hangin' round. For all you know I could be him." Yami   
sniggered inwardly at the statement, concealing it with a shrug.  
  
"I could say the same to you, but there would be one difference if I said it."  
  
Relaxed brows furrowed as the guy gazed at Yami. "What difference?"  
  
In one quick movement, Yami had the guy pinned up against the tree he had been kicking, a sinewy   
arm pressed against his throat.  
  
Grey eyes stared down in horror as Yami flashed him a smile, before bringing his face up closer to the   
others. "If I said it then it would be true."  
  
Words caught in the mortal's throat as he stared down at the cigarette held between Yami's fingers as   
the vampire brought it up close to his once tanned face, now pale with fear. Muscles froze when they   
were ask to move, as he stood paralysed, Yami's arm pressed against his neck.  
  
A moan escaped his lips, turning into a agonised scream as the burning end of the cigarette slid down   
his tender cheek, scalding and marking the once perfect skin with an ugly red blemished line left in it's   
wake.   
  
Yami grinned, listening to the satisfying screams as he drew a circle next to the line, forming the   
number ten.  
  
Ten.  
  
The number of humans who had died by his own cruel acts since he had arrived on Earth. And he had   
enjoyed mutilating every single one of them.   
  
The 25 year olds ragged sobs brought the Vampire King back to reality. He grinned and winked at the   
broken man. "What's the matter? You want me to stop?"  
  
Nodding dumbly, the guy breathed a sigh of relief as Yami took him arm away from his neck.  
  
"Go on then. Run."  
  
He did run, he ran in blind terror. He stumbled on, his cheek throbbing painfully as he wondered why   
he had been let go. Or was that the question he needed to know? Or was it, _had_ he been let go.  
One answer.  
  
No.  
  
He slipped on a shaded patch of mud, falling to the ground. As he tried to get up he felt a foot pressed   
down on his back, holding him pressed against the muddied ground. He whimpered as he felt warm   
breath on his neck, sending a icy chill down his spine.  
  
"You think I'd let you go? Fool. You'll have to be taught that I never let _anyone_ go."  
  
Unable to twist his head since he was lying flat on his stomach, the guy could only hear a small chink   
of metal. He didn't have to see Yami to know what he did next- he felt it rip across his back. Shrieks of   
unadulterated pain mixed with broken cries as he felt the vicious silver spikes of Yami's neck belt   
whipped down; shredding through his shirt to rip skin, tissue and muscle. Blood ran in streams down   
his brown skin from the horrifying jagged slashes.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami gave a contented sigh as he leaned down, taking a handful of the tattered shirt, tearing the ruined   
fabric from his damaged skin. He flung the useless item away into the bushes, leaning down to the   
hideous gashes, crimson eyes running excitedly over the sight. He ran his tongue along on of the open   
wounds, listening to the desperate pleas of his victim. He continued to the next slash, digging his   
tongue deep into the gash sucking out the intriguing red blood that did so much to keep humans alive.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
The youth gave a sob of relief when the intruding and cruel tongue left his back. His head jerked up as   
Yami pulled his hair, exposing his fragile neck. Something black and silver caught his eye as it   
wrapped around his neck, the black threading through silver and held by the vampire.  
  
"Do you have anything to say before you die?"  
  
Only then did he realise what was around his neck. Only then did he realise what Yami was going to   
do.  
  
"P-please no!"  
  
He heard a malicious snigger erupt behind him before an equally vicious voice followed it. "How   
about…no."  
  
The silver neck belt tightened sharply, silver spikes digging straight into the victim's neck, right up to   
their base by the leather, piercing the frail skin with large bloodied holes in several different places.   
  
The 25 year old became headlines as one of the most brutal murders ever reported in the area.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yuugi glanced over at Jou as he sat beside him, attention completely held within the racing game in   
front of him in which he was beating the shorter teen at by a long shot.   
  
The game finished, Jou yelling his victory, before turning his attention to Yuugi as they walked out of   
the arcade with Honda and Anzu.  
  
"You ok Yuug'? You seem a liddle off tonight."  
  
Yuugi glanced into the worried chocolate eyes of Jou, giving him a small half smile. "I'm fine Jou.   
You're just getting better. You played a good game."  
  
Jou turned away, hiding the thick red blush that slid across his nose at the complement.  
  
"Thanks Yuug'."  
  
The group continued down the street until it forked into to four, orange tinged street lights shot dull   
light down at the ground, enhancing the four different streets.  
  
"Well I'm gonna head home guys" Anzu remarked, her shorter frame seemingly smaller against   
Honda's larger physique. The brunette nodded, stifling a yawn with his hand.  
  
"Me too. I gotta history test tomorrow and I ain't even looked at a text book!" his statement met a sharp   
lecture from Anzu on how he should have studied earlier.   
  
"Later guys!"  
  
Jou and Yuugi stifled laughs as they watched the pair walked down the road leading left, Anzu berating   
the lanky brunette as they went.  
  
Yuugi sighed, the smile on his face vanishing. This was what he was leaving behind. This was what he   
would probably never see again. Blinking back tears, the teen walked alongside Jou, the best friend   
who had stuck by him through thick and thin; the youth who Yuugi would gladly give his own life for.   
And he was the one Yuugi had to leave.  
  
"What's up Yuug'? You been down all night."  
  
Yuugi shook his head, frowning at the ground. "Nothing much, I've just had a bit on my mind that's   
all."  
  
The blond nodded, knowing Yuugi had his thoughtful moments which probably went quite deep into   
himself, though he never told anyone about them unless he wanted.  
  
"Hey Jou?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Yuugi kept his hands in his pockets, eyes glancing up for a fraction of a second before lowering back to   
the ground. "You know I'd never replace you don't you? You're my best friend and I don't want to   
lose you."  
  
Surprised, Jou looked down at the youth, a confused furrow etched in his brow. "Course I know that!   
You're my best mate too and we'll always be friends, no matter what."  
  
Yuugi saw the Games Shop looming up into view, blinking at Jou's reply. He felt hot tears spring into   
his eyes, glazing them with a crystal sheen. He suddenly grabbed the blond around his waist hugging   
him profusely, surprising him even more. Jou hugged his friend back, utterly confused by his actions.  
  
"Thank-you Jou. I just want you to know that whatever happens or wherever I go you'll always be my   
best friend."  
  
Jou's face gained an incredibly large blush, though it was hidden in the cloaked darkness, his normally   
tough exterior touched by Yuugi's words. "And the same with you Yuug'. But where are you planning   
on going?"  
  
Yuugi shook his head, Jou reading it as a "I'm not going anywhere", though something crept through   
his heart, telling him something was not right; that something was going to happen to Yuugi. Pulling   
away he shook off the feeling and smiled at the teen, who returned the grin weakly.  
  
"I'm gonna get going. I'll see ya later ok?"  
  
Yuugi nodded, biting his lip as he watched the blond head away.   
  
"Bye Jou!" he called after the fading youth, his last words never meeting his ears. "Good-bye Katsuya   
Jounochi, I only hope I see you again someday."  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Blood.   
  
It poured into Yami's keen senses, filling him with confusion more than anything. He could smell it   
vividly- though vampire senses were not as powerful as Darkwolve's they were still multiple times   
better than a humans; especially when it came to hunting food. But the blood he could smell wasn't   
coming from his kill. Something else had created that smell.  
  
Something else was in that forest with him.  
  
Curiosity plagued Yami's mind driving him to find the source and find whatever _it_ was. He stalked   
silently through the midnight foliage, his frame hidden from view, protected by the surrounding   
shadows. He followed his senses, another smell lingering in with the original one. It smelt like-  
  
No it couldn't. _They_ were not in this world, so therefore it couldn't be one of _them_.  
  
He began to run, dashing through the trees, jumping fallen logs and dodging bushes as he ploughed on.   
Trees parted slightly as though slipping away in fear from the source. The vampire slowed as he heard   
snarling up ahead. Entering a space between two trees, he met a sight he didn't expect to see. Eyes   
burning black hatred, his teeth bared, he stared down at the silvery fur of the source.  
  
His voice barely above a primal growl, he glared down, spitting the name out like toxin.   
  
"Darkwolf!"  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
End notes:   
  
FC: Gomen nasai for this chapter :/ I know it wasn't very good but I did my best n.n  
  
Flareon Muse: you should have seen it before I stepped in XD  
  
Eevee Muse: I can imagine…-.-  
  
Zoo: Yay! My chapter up next ^^  
  
FC: ^_^ Please review! 


	8. First Impressions

Author's Notes:   
  
Disclaimer: FC and Zoo-chan don't own Yu-gi-oh!  
  
Zoo: Yay! You updated, FC-chan! I was looking forward to your chapter ^_^  
  
Eevee muse: -_-;; Speak for yourself – you took a while to update too!  
  
Zoo: Erm.. ^^;;; I was still recovering from that lovely graphic scene FC painted.   
Even days after, I couldn't go near one of those spiky dog collars.  
  
Eevee muse: Oh yeah? What about the dream where you stored people's dissected   
organs in alphabetical order?  
  
Flareon muse: … Or the dream where you shaved people's skin with a potato shaver?  
  
FC: o.O;;; *scoots away from Zoo*  
  
Zoo: ^^;;; *covers up Eevee and Flareon muse's mouths* You guys and your weird   
imaginations! *nervous laughter* Uhmm.. anyway, just ignore them and go on to the   
fic ^_^()…  
  
NOTE: For the sake of retaining certain characters' dignity, Darkwolves shift back   
into human forms _with_ the clothes they shifted from. Bonded Darkwolves can only   
shape-shift when their masters do. Easy, simple.   
  
WARNING: This is a R-rated fic. Suggestions of rape, shounen-ai, and Darkwolf yaoi   
@.@  
  
*******************************  
  
"…Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,   
Now due to be crowned again…"  
-DH Lawrence, "Snake"  
  
*****************************  
  
Chapter 8 – Outcast's Honour  
Ryou woke up in a frenzy of fear and panic. He sat on his bed, eyes fully   
dilated, sweat trickling down the sides of his face and collecting along his damp white   
hair. For a few seconds, the white-haired boy simply breathed in and out, trying to   
control his gasps and soothe his beating heart.   
  
It had all been a dream. The demon, the abuse, the pain, was all a single dream   
created by some fantastic part of his imagination.   
  
After heaving a sigh of relief, Ryou felt for his clothes in the half-light, sliding   
his feet onto the carpeted ground as quietly as possible. He turned around to retrieve a   
pair of socks from the drawer…  
  
…. And came face to face with a pair of glowing red eyes.   
  
Ryou could have run away screaming at the top of his lungs. He was tempted   
to do so. But now, the demon in his nightmare had grabbed his arm, holding the   
white-haired boy in an iron grip.   
  
"Ryou." The demon sneered, a mocking smile lighting up on its mirrored lips.   
"You're finally.. awake."  
  
"I-I-I," Ryou stuttered, opening his mouth and closing it a few times. There   
was a long pause of silence as both figures simply stared at each other. Finally, Ryou   
broke the eye contact, sliding his gaze submissively to the floor and making a move   
towards the door. "I have to go to school."  
  
Bakura immediately stopped the other, roughly jerking Ryou's arm. "You're   
not going anywhere." Oddly enough, Bakura suddenly smiled, advancing towards the   
boy. He slid his head against Ryou's shoulders, bracing his form possessively against   
the younger boy's body. "You're mine. Every bit of your pathetic self is mine; mind,   
soul, and body."  
  
"I-I'm s-sorry, b-b-but I c-cant." Ryou stuttered, flinching slightly under the   
former Darkwolf's touch. A pounding headache was throbbing at the back of his   
head, obscuring his thoughts. Timidly, Ryou pushed his hands against Bakura's chest   
in an attempt to pull away.   
  
Much to Ryou's surprise, Bakura let go, allowing Ryou to distance himself.   
The former Darkwolf never took his burning eyes off the other, a superior grin still   
playing on his face. "You have no clue, do you?"  
  
It was Ryou's turn to feel slightly agitated. The continuous pounding pain in   
his head was not helping his normally docile temper. "A clue on what?"   
  
"I _own_ you Ryou. You are one of mine now."  
  
Confusion still clouded the white-haired boy's eyes. That was when he spotted   
it – a half-healed scar running along his shoulder blade, previously hidden by his   
loose pyjama collar. Ryou instinctively put his hand towards the wound, tracing it   
gently with his fingers.   
  
… And suddenly recoiled in shock.   
  
There was _fur_ running along the back of his hand. Silently, Ryou held up a   
trembling hand, brushing his other thumb along the white-hued fuzz. It was soft,   
slightly coarse to the touch, bristling when he rubbed it backwards. Yet most of all,   
Ryou could feel ever fibre, every point of the fur as he traced it absentmindedly a few   
times up and down with his finger.   
  
Without warning, the white-haired boy collapsed the ground, face utterly   
appalled. His wide eyes stared accusingly Bakura, and suddenly, his headache seemed   
not that important. "Bakura… what did you do?" His voice was low; the tone of   
someone defeated.  
  
"You asked me before what I was." Bakura grinned, gleefully facing Ryou's   
shocked face. " I was once a Darkwolf, but became exiled and condemned by the   
powers of my Millennium Ring. But now, I am a new species, human-mind and wolf-  
spirit. A changeling, you could say."  
  
Ryou recoiled under the other's alluring smile, a knot of fear growing in his   
stomach. He stared at Bakura, trying edge himself further from the clearly-insane   
demon's presence. This wasn't true! It had to be some fantastical nightmare. Yes,   
he'll wake up, and then-  
  
"-But after I return to my world, I'll be Darkwolf once more. Or perhaps,   
something stronger, a _spell casting_ Darkwolf." Bakura continued to smile, eyes   
flashing wildly. "And you know how they say miserly loves company…"  
  
******************************************  
  
Humans adapted poorly to change. A single cut or sore, and it took days, even   
weeks to heal. Ryou was no exception.   
  
The boy's human blood had tried to reject the changes at first, resulting in   
Ryou's slightly odd appearance. The former Darkwolf snorted to himself. Hell, Ryou   
looked more like a demon than he himself did!  
  
Yet, humans thrived on change. Give or take a few weeks, and Ryou would   
heal. Then, the boy would be his soul-slave for eternity, a pitiful shadow walking in   
Bakura's wake.   
  
The former Darkwolf peered through his serrated white bangs to catch a   
glimpse of Ryou staring vacantly out the window.   
  
The white-haired boy was curled on the bed, arms gently wrapped around his   
knees. His face was oddly beautiful, ears gently pointed, irises glowing slightly in   
their deep brown flecks.   
  
Bakura chuckled silently. Ryou was his! The former Darkwolf slid his eyes   
towards the darkening sky outside the window. It would be night time soon.   
  
Time for another game of cat and mouse.   
  
Or should he say, wolf and human?  
  
************************************  
  
It seemed like hours now. Ryou quickly glanced at his alarm clock. 11:07 pm.   
Only seven minutes had passed since Bakura had left the room without a single word.   
Well, perhaps a warning look, but the white-haired boy was in no mood to test the   
extent of Bakura's patience when the other got back.   
  
Silently Ryou shuffled towards his bookstand, reaching a hand towards the top   
shelf. It was slightly dusty, and his fingers trailed over several mothballs before   
stopping. With a slight grunt, Ryou grabbed the object he could only feel, jerking it   
just enough to pull it off its well-rested position.   
  
A book now rested in the white-haired boy's hands. It was thick and slightly   
worn, the fine gold print on the cover faded from years of use. Gently, Ryou blew the   
dust off the book, fingers lifting the cover and experimentally flicking through several   
yellowed pages.   
  
At last he made a stop on one page. Ryou traced his index finger along the fine   
black print, reading it aloud as if to reassure himself.   
  
"Werewolves, See: Lycanthrope, wolf-man."   
  
"Considered a mythical creation dating back to early medieval times, werewolves   
were viewed as humans who had sold their souls to the devil in exchange for the   
power of a demon. The condemned humans took the form of the wolf at night to   
disguise themselves, carrying out bloodthirsty rampages."  
  
Ryou paused, frowning slightly. Was this the reason for the sudden rash of   
violent murders in the past few weeks? Yet, it didn't make sense: Bakura hadn't   
arrived until a week ago. Even if the other did, the white-haired demon barely seemed   
to be the same pitiful creature he was on the day they first met.   
  
"In modern times, the werewolf is still considered a terrible icon. Often, those   
doomed under the curse of the werewolf would undergo the changes into a wolf-like   
beast once every full moon, becoming a mindless killing machine. The werewolf can   
only transfer its curse during the full moon, if its victims survive its attacks."  
  
Survive. That was hardly the word that Ryou would use. What Bakura had   
done, it was more intimate; possessively sensuous than sadistic.   
  
Ryou snorted, closing the volume with a defeated sigh. Then again, no one   
else had met a werewolf so what was there to blame? And hadn't Bakura mentioned   
another name?  
  
_Darkwolf_  
  
Bakura was a Darkwolf, barely a bestial, horrendous beast of children's   
nightmares. The white-haired demon was simply a wolf reborn in human form. A   
wolf robbed of kin, spirit damned and restless.   
  
Ryou's headache was working up again.   
  
Years of watching grossly distorted horror flicks had made the white-haired   
boy edgy and frightened. He could visualize in graphic detail the victims scream in   
pitiful cries and pleas as their bodies shaped and distorted, bones crunching, voices   
changing into demonic growls under the curse.   
  
That was it, wasn't it? The difference between truth and lies. An orange could   
be vocalized as tangy and sweet, but the garble of words meant nothing. In order to   
understand an orange, one had to hold the fruit in their hands, taste the simmering,   
juicy pulp and lick the stingy spray off from the rind.   
  
Nothing happened.   
  
Darkwolf Magick simply did not work that way. It was a subtle feeling   
crawling beneath his skin, aware but not intrusive. He could feel this promise of   
strength, this proud, reassuring aura within him, watching in dignified silence.   
  
Tentatively, the white-haired boy closed his eyes, reaching out towards this   
newly found channel of support. Immediately, the Darkwolf Magick coiled around his   
touch. It danced around his hesitation, aura vibrating in eager, waiting for any   
command.   
  
Ryou hesitated, eyes clouding over in confusion. It was right at his fingertips,   
all but beckoning him, but did he dare? Then again, what was there to lose?  
At last the boy broke the final restraints against this strange, ancient Magick, letting it   
flow freely within him, through his veins, enveloping his mind with a numbing power.   
  
The white-haired boy closed his eyes, lips slightly parted in awe. He could feel   
his already-long hair rippling, spreading across his skin like wildgrass, enveloping   
him in a sudden blanket of warmth. Almost too suddenly, he dropped on all fours,   
forearms strengthening and fingers tapering into blunt claws. His face elongated to   
form an ivory-white muzzle, teeth growing and sharpening into visible canines. Last   
came the plumed tail, stretching out behind him like a soft regal banner, billowing   
under an invisible breeze.   
  
The boy – no Darkwolf – shook his pure-white coat, stretching his forepaws   
out in front of him to grab a corner of his jacket and pull it off. The fabric got caught   
against one of his pointed ears, and Ryou paused in momentary confusion before   
flicking his ear and detaching the offending object.   
  
A wolf as white as a swan's wing, deemed impossible as a survivor against   
Japan's unnaturally warm terrain. And yet, Ryou was no wolf. He was the exact   
opposite of Bakura, a human hiding under a wolf's powerful form.   
  
As quietly as possible, Ryou leapt onto his bed, paws caving slightly under the   
mattress. He spent a few moments grappling with the latch of the window. In a burst   
of cold air and rustle of windowpanes, Ryou jumped into the darkness, free from his   
confines for the first time.   
  
He landed with a soft thud on the leaf-swathed ground, digging his paws   
experimentally into the soil before taking off, tongue lolling eagerly to one side of his   
mouth. It was bliss, such dignity and grace, such euphoria of strength supporting him   
like a towering pillar.   
  
There was still his Millennium Ring dangling by his chest. Yet it did nothing   
to bother Ryou. He trotted towards the woods imprinted already in his human mind,   
wolf-instincts overpowering his normally conservative rationale.   
  
After all, in order to understand a Darkwolf, Ryou had to be one.   
  
*****************************************  
  
Bakura snorted, lifting his head up from his now-motionless prey. So the boy   
came to him.   
  
The silver-furred Darkwolf continued to feast greedily into the dead deer's   
warm flesh, canines biting rhythmically through the skin and muscles. True, there   
were plenty humans around, breeding faster than flies, but Bakura could never acquire   
a taste for their flesh. For starters, it smelt awful, somewhat akin to decayed carrion   
mixed in sweaty mildew and urine. It tasted worse; dry and stringy in his mouth   
without any essence of strength or nutrition.   
  
Ryou was coming soon. And Bakura had no intention of sharing.   
  
Not, the silver-furred Darkwolf thought to himself, that the other would dare,   
but it was amusing to imagine.   
  
There was a rustle in the nearby bushes, and Bakura immediately jerked to full   
awareness, fur bristling just slightly in apprehension.   
  
A pure white muzzle parted from the darkened leaves, extending into a face of   
glistening ivory fur and gentle chestnut eyes.  
  
Even without those strikingly familiar eyes, Bakura was able to sense Ryou's   
presence. It was as if their Millennium Rings had tied their two completely separate   
souls together like it tied their Power and Magick.   
  
Ryou too recognized Bakura almost immediately. The snow-white wolf   
recoiled backwards, a small whimper escaping his long lupine snout. One icy glare   
from Bakura and Ryou was frozen on the spot.   
  
The silver Darkwolf bared his jaws in a gesture of dominance. He neared the   
smaller white-furred wolf, circling around the other to scrutinize Ryou under his sharp   
Darkwolf eyes. Even in Darkwolf form, there was something about Ryou that set   
Bakura off; something that immediately told his senses that Ryou was more than he   
seemed. Bakura initially passed it as the vile human essence, repudiating it   
completely. How wrong he had been.   
  
Ryou was a Seer. The boy's hidden Magick was incredible; it all but vibrated   
with power inside his body. True, Darkwolves had a naturally resource of Magick, but   
rarely as strong or concentrated.  
  
Bakura could have laughed aloud at his sheer stroke of luck. This boy – not   
only could he store Magick, but he could command it! This boy was his key to   
overcoming the other helpless Darkwolves. And most of all, Ryou had no clue.   
  
::You're mine:: The Darkwolf voiced those words in his mind, forcing them   
down the link he and Ryou now shared. It was the link of creator and follower, of   
dominant to submissive. The silver Darkwolf prowled closer to Ryou's glistening-  
white body. He rested his muzzled head against the smaller Darkwolf's back, sinking   
his canines deep into the base of Ryou's neck. Ryou yelped slightly, but Bakura   
silenced the other with a single look. Finally the silver Darkwolf let go, licking the   
droplets of blood stunning his teeth. Bakura let his muzzle slide up along the other's   
neck, tongue trailing over the soft white fur until it reached Ryou's own muzzle.   
  
Without waiting for the other's permission, Bakura pried Ryou's sharp   
incisors apart with a single jerk of his tongue, twisting his elongated head sideways to   
allow room for the muzzle. The silver Darkwolf leaned his head aggressively   
forwards, opening and closing his mouth to taste the sides of Ryou's muzzle. The   
smaller Darkwolf's mouth was open slightly in submission, allowing Bakura's tongue   
to run experimentally against Ryou's. Several times, Bakura traced his tongue   
dangerously close against the smaller Darkwolf's canines, but Ryou did not move his   
jaw an inch.  
  
Bakura grinned, opening his mouth one more time to lock jaw-to-jaw with   
_his_ possession. This was more than loyalty; it was obedience. Even in control of   
power, Ryou dared not disobey.   
  
:: You are chained to me for eternity. By accepting your Darkwolf gifts, you   
have sold your soul under my command.:: At last Bakura parted, letting his words   
sink deeply into Ryou's consciousness.   
  
Ryou replied with a barely audible whine, a pathetic glimmer of denial   
crossing his beautiful Darkwolf features. His pure-white fur glistened like snow under   
the moonlight, making him appear more a ghostly apparition than a phantasic spirit of   
the night.   
  
Bakura could feel the turbulent emotions roiling in Ryou's mind wanting to   
flee and rebel. He could sense the Magick within Ryou, stirred into uneasiness,   
pooling into Ryou's Millennium Ring to calm its owner's apprehension.   
  
Seconds later, Ryou bowed his head, bending his forepaws to collapse onto the   
ground. The white-furred Darkwolf rested his muzzle on the cold dirt, paws extended   
forwards, eyes gazing upwards in a gesture of submission.   
  
{P-please. Just let me do one more thing.} Ryou hesitated upon feeling   
Bakura's sudden flare of anger. {One more thing, and then… I'm yours. Only yours.}  
  
A twinge of guilt travelled across Bakura's mind. True, he wanted dominance   
over the other, but not to the point where Ryou was absolutely helpless without him.   
Yet the promise of absolute power in controlling a Darkwolf Seer – it was a   
temptation Bakura could not resist. A sneer played on his chiselled Darkwolf muzzle.   
::Take your day. In fact, _enjoy_ your last days in this pathetic human world. But   
after that, you are mine, just like you promised.::  
  
The smaller, white Darkwolf closed his eyes giving a deep sigh bordering   
relief and defeat. He continued to stay in his prostrate position until Bakura slid   
beside him and showed him intimate… things… deemed impossible for humans to   
perform.   
  
*****************************************  
  
Ever since the first Ritual when Bakura had marked Ryou as his own, the   
former Darkwolf felt himself getting more and more possessive about the boy. He   
knew that he had promised Ryou just one more day of freedom, but his possessive   
Darkwolf instincts were firmly rooted against letting the other leave. What if Ryou   
got into trouble, or got hurt? The former Darkwolf bristled at that thought. Ryou was   
_his_ and his to touch only!  
  
Which was the reason to why Bakura was walking along Ryou. The boy had   
mentioned a need to visit some strange institution called a 'school', but the former   
Darkwolf failed to listen beyond those words. It was just one more day within this   
damned world, so Bakura wouldn't even care if Ryou was going to a purgatory. That   
was, as long as Ryou didn't get harmed in the process.   
  
Why did Bakura cling to the other so much? Was it because Ryou was his   
_only_ companion? The former Darkwolf's eyes clouded over in pain. After all his   
allies and followers, he was left with this cub, a boy more human than Darkwolf.   
  
So, Bakura walked beside Ryou, mimicking the other's actions to blend into   
this environment with only one conviction in his mind. He could not loose Ryou   
because the boy was all that Bakura had.   
  
**************************************  
  
A shrill ringing sound jolted Bakura from his half-trance. Immediately the   
former Darkwolf snared, baring his teeth, though they didn't look nearly as   
impressive in his human state.   
  
He then realized that he was still sitting on one of those damned   
uncomfortable chairs, head resting on this rectangular 'table' while waiting for   
Ryou's lesson to finish. Some of the other humans inside this confined room were   
staring oddly at him. Bakura quickly wilted their amusement with a livid glare.   
  
The former Darkwolf pushed himself up from the chair, Millennium Ring   
jangling slightly around his chest. Ryou had given him a 'uniform' consisting of a set   
of clothing, mainly a blue jacket, pants, and white shirt. Unfortunately, Bakura was a   
bit larger than Ryou, so that the jacket strained against his figure, flaunting his lithe,   
muscular frame.   
  
A gaggle of girls passed by the former Darkwolf, suddenly breaking into   
giggles as they approached him, winking and clutching their schoolbooks shyly.   
Bakura was completely confused. He blatantly ignored the girls, arrogantly pushing   
them out of the way before walking towards Ryou, who was still sitting on his desk   
long after the bell, arms sprawled over a massive pile of sheets, hand scribbling   
madly.   
  
"Ryou." Bakura shook the boy's arm irately. "Why are you still here?"  
  
The shorter white-haired boy looked up. "Homework." Ryou grunted, as if it   
was the meaning to life.   
  
The former Darkwolf snorted, forcefully pulling the other by the arm. The   
desk trembled under the sudden movement, papers and pencils alike scattering onto   
the ground. "I don't have the time for this." Bakura gritted his teeth, a painfully false   
smile plastered on his face. "Don't make me wait."  
  
The white-haired boy nodded. Ryou himself couldn't understand why he was   
so loyal or obedient to Bakura, but it felt right, as if he was destined to this menial   
task. As if this obligation meant everything to him.   
  
Bakura grinned, nuzzling his face against Ryou's neck. The boy had taken   
painstaking means to hide his unusual features and even went as far as to wear   
fingerless gloves to school. Yet Bakura had yet to see how the boy could conceal   
those haunting amber eyes or slightly pointed eyeteeth. No, there was no hiding the   
appearance of those marked by a Darkwolf.   
  
"Don't Bakura." Ryou timidly pushed the other away, wincing under the   
former Darkwolf's indignant frown. "L-later, okay? Just let me finish school today."  
  
Bakura decided to hold his tongue, though his temper flared and raged   
erratically. He crossed his arms, making his jacket strain even more, unaware of the   
looks that he was attracting from the few female stragglers still left within the room.   
"Fine. I'll wait." The Darkwolf was used to waiting. Revenge was based on waiting.   
  
Ryou mentally sighed in relief. Bakura was known to have temperamental fits   
of anger. "Let's go have lunch then. I'll show you around in the cafeteria."  
  
********************************  
  
Bakura hated crowds. If there was anything he learned from being jammed in   
a room with thousands of shrieking, yelling, jumbled-up voices, it was that they all   
deserved to die. Painfully.   
  
It didn't help that the cafeteria was drenched in an absolutely putrid scent. It   
reminded the former Darkwolf of a human carcass he had once found in the Shadow   
World, half rotting and oozing with maggots.   
  
Ryou urged Bakura to continue walking. The boy seemed to be weaving   
through and endless column of humans, much to the former Darkwolf's despair. Was   
there no escape from these vile, pathetic, weak creatures?  
  
Then Bakura caught it. It was a faint scent almost indiscernible among the   
reek of spoiled food and human sweat. It was a dangerous scent, supernatural in aura,   
tinged with confidence and power. It was the scent of one not from this world. But   
there was not way – there couldn't be-  
  
"Bakura!" Ryou called to the former Darkwolf who had suddenly stopped   
walking. "Keep on moving! You're holding up the line-up."  
  
Line-up? Bakura looked around him, clearing his mind of the previous   
thought. It was probably just a figment of his imagination, a misleading scent   
triggered by nostalgia. Ryou called this repugnant sea of humans cluttered randomly   
in the small, enclosed space a line-up? More stunned than indignant, Bakura followed   
Ryou, senses slightly overwhelmed by the noise and sheer amount of humans.   
  
At last, after handling a pudgy human some wrinkled pieces of paper, Ryou   
neared a somewhat spacious table and sat down. The white-haired boy then took a   
wrapped object, neatly unfolding it to reveal a rectangular object inside. Ryou   
grabbed a slice of the rectangle and took an experimental bite, chewing it a few times   
before wrinkling his mouth in disgust.  
"Ugh." The boy neatly folded the remainder of the edible, soft rectangle back   
into the paper wrapping. "I've forgotten how gross cafeteria food tastes."  
  
Bakura snorted, spreading his frame on the table bench, arms cushioning his   
head. He half-closed his eyes in attempt to filter out the scents and noises. After he   
returned to the Shadow World, he would finally drop his meaningless pretence and   
seek the revenge he wanted. The former Darkwolf brushed and experimental tongue   
over his teeth. First he would go after Isis, the very Darkwolf who condemned him,   
and then the Council. Bakura was no longer afraid of the Seer because he too, had his   
own secret weapon. That is, once Ryou got the experience…  
  
A chorus of giggles broke the former Darkwolf from his train of thought.   
Bakura irately snapped his deep chestnut eyes open, catching the figures of three girls   
standing right by - or above, for that matter - him. The former Darkwolf forced down   
a snarl and smiled blankly at the girls. "May I help you?" He nearly gagged at his   
words, but it was necessary – he had to retain Ryou's favour as part of his grandiose   
scheme.   
  
The girls began to giggle and fidget harder. "Can we sit beside you?" The   
human-girl speaking pointed to the empty space beside Bakura's sprawled frame.   
  
Bakura sat back up, turning around to cast a pleading look at Ryou.   
Unfortunately the white-haired boy was absorbed in talking to someone else, and had   
strayed to another bench. Which left Bakura with these girls. Before the former   
Darkwolf could even state a reply, the girls had seated themselves around him, taking   
out their lunches and to prattle about the most menial things.   
Never in his life had Bakura experienced such disgust for a sentient species.   
Darkwolf females were strong and independent, able to hunt and fend for themselves   
at will. These girls, these _human_ girls, barely seemed able to walk on their own.   
They continued to talk endlessly, storming the former Darkwolf with questions and   
terms Bakura could only guess at. Though he grunted and made discouraging replies,   
they never seemed to give up, continuing their relentless pursuit for who-knows-what.  
  
"So." One of the girls was continuing her own self-contrived interview. "Do   
you have a girlfriend yet?"  
  
Bakura frowned at that statement. "No."  
  
"Did you ever have a girlfriend?" Another girl interrupted, rephrasing the   
statement just slightly.   
  
The former Darkwolf found his long-gone patience sprawling even further.   
"Do I look like I have one?" He snapped, bristling his frame to try and appear as   
menacing as possible.   
  
This only made the girls 'aww' and giggle further. Sounds of 'he's free' and   
'he's mine' escaped from the random noises the girls made. If Bakura was in his   
Darkwolf form, he would have flattened his ears against his head in absolute defeat.   
Did these humans never give up?  
  
Like some music descended from the heavens, a sudden shrill shriek echoed   
throughout the entire room. Immediately the girls 'eeped' and muttered some   
goodbye's and 'here's my phone number' (in which case, Bakura was handed some   
random slips of paper) and left the infinitely damned room. Almost everyone else had   
left too.   
  
He was free! Trying to restrain his excitement, the former Darkwolf stood up,   
stretching his cramped muscles. He then turned to where Ryou was seated. "All right   
Ryou, you better be-"  
  
Bakura stopped as he realized that he was talking to an empty space. In fact,   
the entire table where Ryou had been was empty. The former Darkwolf looked   
around, spotting no sign of the white-haired boy.   
  
He then growled, teeth clenched in frustration. Ryou had abandoned him! The   
former Darkwolf stormed out of the room, pacing down the hallway in a furious blur   
of speed, angrily shoving humans left and right of him. Ryou would pay for this!  
  
*********************************************  
  
"I said I was sorry!"  
  
Ryou continued to chase after the furious Darkwolf. He had accidentally   
forgotten about Bakura in his furious dash to class, resulting in a not-very-happy   
Bakura. As in an absolutely livid Bakura.  
  
The former Darkwolf suddenly whipped his head around, grabbing Ryou by   
the arms. His fingers gripped painfully into Ryou's skin like iron clamps. "Sorry?"   
Bakura was all but frothing now. "You _leave_ me, and you say you're fucking   
sorry?!"  
  
Ryou winced under the other's glare. This was Not Good. "I-I-" The boy   
stuttered, trying to explain his situation. Not that he expected Bakura to understand,   
but at least the other could have the patience to try.   
  
"Yes, _you_!" Bakura spat the word out like acid. "The world is all about   
_you_. It's all about how _you_ feel, and how _you_ want it to be. I take no part in   
your world."  
  
Ryou was at a loss of words. The boy looked down, biting his lip to stop a   
retort he knew would only further anger the other.   
  
The former Darkwolf seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. He stood there   
for a few moments, fists clenched in anger, eyebrows furrowed in reminiscence of   
personal failure and agony. Even now his back still burned in pain though the wound   
had long healed.   
  
It was this wasn't it? He was the scapegoat, the one whom everyone could   
make fun of. Hell, even among _humans_ he was still considered the inferior, the   
outcast.   
  
The former Darkwolf found himself gazing right into Ryou's deep amber eyes.   
For a moment, he could sense everything within those soft brown pools of light, as if   
the very heavens had opened their secret to him. And he too expressed his darkness,   
his hidden secret of anguish and loss in that single moment of interaction.   
  
Bakura pulled away, willing himself to go no further. In a strangled cry of   
frustration, the former Darkwolf ran, leaving the white-haired boy and his inquisitive   
amber eyes behind.   
  
Leaving his memories of anguish and despair behind.   
  
*************************************  
  
Ryou didn't know what he too. He simply stood, feet riveted to the spot,   
watching Bakura leave. What were those emotions he had felt when looking into the   
former Darkwolf's troubled eyes? Ryou wanted to chase after the other, to calm him,   
to reassure him and soften Bakura's violent temper, but found himself without the   
courage or motivation. The other's fierce, wild spirit was simply too much for Ryou   
to tame.   
  
Now the boy walked alone, stunned. Just like this and it was over. True he still   
had the mark of a Darkwolf, but this Magick was no longer needed, and useless   
without Bakura's presence. The other had finally left him, and all the supernatural   
dealings and encounters would disappear. Ryou was just an ordinary person now.   
  
A soft sigh escaped from the boy's lips. Ryou silently shuffled on his way   
back home, ignoring the feeling of loss and confusion whirling at the back of his   
mind. He turned at a nearby alleyway, picking his way through the mottled boxes and   
garbage. His house was just a few blocks down, a sanctuary of the ordinary, and from   
the look on Bakura's face, he doubted if the strange, almost-insane Darkwolf would   
ever return.   
  
The boy did not notice an obstruction until he hit it. Shocked, the boy looked   
up, eyes catching a rather handsome face, grinning madly in the shadows. Wild violet-  
red irises clashed against his soft amber ones.   
  
Ryou mentally cursed to himself. It was getting dark now, and he highly   
doubted that anyone would hear him if he screamed. The person hovering in front of   
him did not look friendly.  
  
"Excuse me." The white-haired boy politely shuffled to one side of the person.   
He was immediately blocked by several others, flanking the lead figure. The boy's   
heart plummeted, chest constricting in fear. "I-I need to go home."  
  
Without warning the lead violet-red eyed figure grabbed Ryou roughly by the   
chin, jerking the white-haired boy's face upwards. A prominent sneer played on the   
figure's face. "Look. We found the bitch-boy yet again."   
  
Ryou wrinkled his nose as the figure's long, straggled platinum-blonde hair   
tickled his face. He tried to wriggle away from the searing grip, one arm pushing   
away the other's elbow, but to no avail.   
  
"Looks like he didn't learn his lesson well enough, Ishtar." Another thick   
voice piped up.   
  
The lead figure, the one holding Ryou like a caged dove, grinned, eyes   
flashing wildly. For a moment it reminded the white-haired boy of Bakura, but there   
was no sign of compassion or hurt in Ishtar's smoky-violet eyes.   
  
In a flurry of jagged platinum hair and tanned skin, Ishtar was on Ryou,   
pressing his lips firmly against the white-haired boy's mouth. Ryou's eyes widened in   
surprise, his muffled retort gagged and choked by the other's smothering touch.   
  
A single moment of air, and then Ishtar was on him again, the other's tongue   
plunging deeply into Ryou's mouth, tracing over the boy's teeth in anticipation.   
  
Ryou panicked. In a decision spurred more by fear than self-defence, the   
white-haired boy bit down, clamping his teeth into the other's tongue. He could feel   
Ishtar's foreign blood dripping like acid down his throat and he choked back a bile-  
induced cough.   
  
Although Ishtar immediately withdrew his mouth, he seemed more amused   
then furious. The platinum-haired ringleader simply threw back his head in mocking   
laughter. The sound burned Ryou's ears, making the boy involuntarily flinch.   
  
"Nice, _bitch_." Ishtar sneered. He wiped the blood dripping out of mouth   
with one hand. "But I'm done playing."  
  
Ishtar grabbed Ryou's shirt, pulling the white-haired boy closer towards him.   
He watched amusedly as Ryou whimpered in protest. Abandoning all patience   
together, Ishtar began working at Ryou's belt, tossing it off before undoing the boy's   
pants. This process had to be as psychologically damaging as physical. Ishtar was   
going to make the white-haired boy learn the word 'suffer' all over again.   
  
Bakura had never gone this far. Ryou tried to block the pain by focusing his   
attention on the other he had lost. Glassy tears trickled down the white-haired boy's   
eyes, and he wanted to scream and shout to the world his agony, but it was useless.   
Had this been what Bakura had felt? This burning, this searing, this absolute removal   
of all his dignity and innocence?  
  
And most of all, Ishtar wouldn't stop. The other had taken the pleasure into   
strapping the blade of a razor right by his abdomen, so that whenever he forced his   
hips downwards, it would sink and plunge into Ryou's thighs, freeing thick rivulets of   
blood.   
  
Ryou shook his frame brokenly, mouth contorted into an expression of   
absolute revulsion. Why wouldn't the other just take that blade, slip it around his neck   
and end this pain forever? Ryou just couldn't take this pain anymore! His mind was   
stuck in a frenzied loop of fear.  
  
Ishtar was moving again. Amidst the jeers and shouts of encouragement, Ishtar   
continued to jerk his sweating body, one tongue running along his lips in pleasure.   
The platinum-haired ringleader arched his body once again, the blade flashing   
wickedly at hip-level.   
  
Ryou cringed, anticipating the pain. It never came. Yet instead of looking up,   
or contemplating his freedom, the boy curled into a pitiful, trembling ball, letting the   
tears flow freely down his stinging face.   
  
The white-haired boy stayed almost oblivious to the screams, shouts, and roars   
of rage. He ignored the splatters of warm liquid suddenly raining against his pitiful   
frame, drowned out the cries of despair, and paid no heed to the crunching of bones or   
the final patter of desperate footsteps disappearing into the darkness.   
  
Ryou felt his head being roughly jerked up again. The boy winced, shuddering   
uncontrollably, unable to stop his eyes from looking into his oppressor's.   
  
Instead of those demonic ruby-violet irises, he found himself staring at a pair   
of dark hazel eyes. Ones flecked with bare traces of soft-brown, like beams of   
compassion in the plane of indifference.   
  
The boy said nothing and simply collapsed into a pitiful bundle, not even   
noticing when the other supported him just enough to kneel. Ryou buried his face into   
the other's strong, familiar chest, shoulders heaving up and down in broken sobs. All   
that remained to him was the pain.   
  
The presence by him waited. A presence of born of darkness but meant to   
support the light.   
  
************************************  
  
The midnight moonlight shone on two figures of silver and white treading like   
ghosts in the shadows. The smaller of the two hesitated, pausing in apprehension only   
to continue with a nudge from the other.   
  
Throughout the entire ordeal Bakura had said nothing. What was there for the   
Darkwolf to say? He had felt Ryou's agony through the strange bond they now   
shared, arriving almost too late to salvage the last of the boy's dignity.   
  
Then who was indeed the more pitiful? Him or Ryou? It was ironic that they   
had both been violated, shattered, and abused. And they both continued their façade,   
hiding their deepest grief from each other as if afraid of the other's presence. Bakura   
denied it as the truth. His pain would be compensated by his revenge.   
  
Already, Bakura had felt the sweet embrace of revenge. He felt the absolute   
power and control when he had advanced upon Ishtar, using his Millennium Ring to   
steal the other's vile soul and rip the remainder of the ringleader's body into bloody   
shards.   
  
Ryou mentally flinched as Bakura neared him. The white-furred Darkwolf   
recoiled under Bakura's touch, quavering in fear.   
  
The silver Darkwolf sighed. So? This was life – eat or be eaten. Ryou had to   
cope with it.   
  
Yet, why did the other look so pitiful? What made Bakura want to side beside   
the other and drive away the fear with reassurance?  
  
::It's okay, Ryou:: Bakura sent a half-comforting pulse through their mindlink.   
::I'll… protect you.:: The last words sounded lame and slightly foreign.   
  
Ryou clung to them with an insatiable desperation. {Th-they'll get me!} There   
was an obvious hysteria in the boy's tone. {They'll find me and-}  
  
::-I'll stop them.:: The silver Darkwolf drowned the last of Ryou's fear with   
his own confidence and anger. ::I'll make them all pay.::   
  
Silver and white. Considered the colours or shades of purity, of innocence, of   
youth and vigour.   
  
They were lies, like the lies of falsified dreams and hopes, scattering   
inspiration and creating the descent into despair.   
  
Silver and white. Colours of despair, but paired because of their similarity in   
tone, their startling compliment of shades.   
  
But most of all, paired for their resemblance.   
  
*******************************************************  
  
Bakura jerked up from his restful state. The silver Darkwolf raised his head,   
suddenly alert. Invisible waves of tension wafted in the air currents. The night chatter   
and rustles had fallen silent. An intruder was coming.   
  
Bakura gently nuzzled Ryou to get up. The more experienced Darkwolf lead   
the way through the dense trees and darkened foliage, trusting only his wolven senses   
in this wilderness. It was a supernatural scent, the familiar aura of one not from this   
world. His Millennium Ring began to glow just slightly, one of the pointed shards   
hanging from the circular rim suddenly pointing to his left with a life of its own.   
  
The silver Darkwolf did not question his Ring's power. He knew that there   
was something that attracted his Ring, something very powerful that lay in that   
direction. Recklessly he continued on.   
  
Bakura was so engrossed in his chase that he almost failed to recognize the   
target.   
  
Right in front of the Darkwolf stood a figure Bakura mistook at first for a   
human. It was a lithe, muscular figure, eyes glowing an unnatural red. The twin set of   
canines protruding from this figure's mouth falsified the human-like pretence.   
  
A rage fuelled by centuries of anger boiled within the silver Darkwolf's blood.   
This creature standing in front of him was one of _them_. Yet it was impossible. How   
could one of _them_ be here, in this human world? Moreover, what was _it_ doing   
here?  
  
"Darkwolf."  
  
Bakura heard the other acknowledge him in a cold, detached voice full of   
scorn and disdain. The silver Darkwolf immediately bared his teeth, fur bristling and   
hackles rising. He let the single word escape from his lupine mouth.   
  
"Vampire." A pity vampires did not comprehend Darkwolf speech.   
  
Both predators, both powerful, destructive, ferocious creatures of the night   
circled each other warily. They sized the other up, trying to form a strategy as they   
continued pacing.  
  
The tension rose between the two bristling creatures. At last Bakura made the   
first strike. More impatient than the other, he doggedly leapt for the vampire's   
exposed side, ivory incisors gleaming.   
  
In the very last moment, the vampire pulled away, swinging his frame to   
Bakura's left. The blood-hunter's thick crown of hair blocked the Darkwolf's vision,   
causing Bakura to loose balance and fall ungainly to the ground.   
  
The vampire immediately struck in that moment of awkwardness. His   
unnaturally powerful hands clamped Bakura's jaws shut while his fangs sought for the   
Darkwolf's struggling throat.  
  
Bakura growled in indignation, continuing to avoid the vampire's incisors.   
Two could play at that game.   
  
The silver Darkwolf forced his muscles to relax as if hypnotized by the   
vampire's aura. Bakura's dark-brown eyes noted shrewdly the other's gain of   
confidence. Deception was the key to winning.   
  
Just as the vampire coiled, ready like a serpent to strike, Bakura lunged out,   
breaking free from the other's grip. The silver Darkwolf dropped to the ground, soft   
belly scraping the ground. Without a moment's hesitation he slipped between the   
vampire's legs and twisted his body into the air. Jaws wide open and flashing, the   
Darkwolf leapt straight at the vampire's exposed spine.   
  
The other reacted almost too belatedly. Bakura felt his teeth clamp onto something,   
but it simply tore off like fake skin. It tasted oddly of leather, and stung the   
Darkwolf's sensitive mouth. He angrily spat out the offending material.  
  
Both opponents had regressed back to circling each other. They glared   
menacingly, dark brown against crimson red, wary and apprehensive. Now they had a   
taste of the other's potential and skills.   
  
The vampire stepped into the moonlight that filtered between the canopy of   
trees. A familiar design gleamed in the light, causing Bakura to temporarily lose his   
concentration.   
  
The silver Darkwolf blinked. It was impossible and downright ironic.   
  
Engraved like a tattoo on the skin of the vampire's neck was the insignia of   
the Darkwolves. Not just any insignia, but the Darkwolf symbol of rejection and   
disgrace. It was the sign of the branded; the punished; the hated.   
  
Bakura would have laughed. It was hard for him in wolven form to do   
anything similar to laughter, but his jaws were open in a silent grin, tongue lolling in   
amusement.   
  
The vampire looked offended. The other stopped pacing and glared, crossing   
his arms irately. "What's so funny, _Darkwolf_?" He spat out the word just as   
distastefully as before.   
  
Bakura ignored the other's anger, grinning wildly. He cocked his head to one   
side in a sign of passiveness. Upon seeing the other relax slightly, he began to shift,   
taking his distinctly human form. His white hair shimmered slightly in the filters of   
moonlight.   
"You call yourself a vampire?"  
  
"Shut up, Darkwolf." The other bristled angrily at that comment, assuming an   
offensive stance once more.  
  
Bakura raised his hands to signal off the aggression. "I'm not here to pick a   
fight with you, vampire. You'll find it hard fighting someone who does not support   
his kind."  
  
The vampire's features were clouded in confusion and obvious suspicion. "I   
have no time for your riddles." His rich voice bordered impatience.   
  
The former Darkwolf inwardly grinned. No doubt that this vampire was of the   
higher ranks, possibly of noble vampire birth. A scheme started working in his mind.   
After all, weren't vampires considered lethal enemies to the Darkwolves? What if…  
"I am an outcast of my kind. They have rejected me, and I claim to be a   
Darkwolf no more."  
  
The other seemed unimpressed. "You still use Darkwolf Magick. As long as   
you do so, I shall mark you as one of their kind."  
  
Bakura inwardly snarled. How dare the other make such assumptions? "You   
have been branded as a Darkwolf _prisoner_ and yet, I make no assumptions about   
you. I have been mistreated by my kind and now seek only revenge. How else can I   
get this revenge without using my powers?"  
  
The vampire said nothing for a while. Something beside the blood-hunter   
fidgeted uncomfortably in the silence, once hidden in the darkened foliage.   
  
Bakura's eyes widened. There was another beside the vampire. One that   
looked an unnatural amount like the vampire himself. Except, there was no   
supernatural aura coming from this figure.   
  
"You are carrying with you a human stowaway." The former Darkwolf   
regarded this smaller human curiously. "I wonder, is he to be used for sustenance or   
maybe as something else?"  
  
"Do not question my antics and I won't ask yours." The vampire laid a   
protective hand over the boy's shoulder. "You too have a follower."   
  
The former Darkwolf said nothing. So much for playing advantages. He let   
Ryou walk closer behind him to signal his equal protectiveness.   
  
The other, still in wolven form, suddenly froze. {Bakura… I _know_ him.}  
  
Considering the fact that Ryou was staring at the human, not the vampire - and   
that Ryou had probably never seen a vampire in his life - Bakura decided to press his   
curiousity. ::Where have you seen him?::  
  
Instead of answering, Ryou too shifted, figure gently melding back to his   
original human form. He was slightly weary after the change, wavering on both legs   
before regaining his stance.   
"Yuugi." The white-haired boy beckoned to the smaller figure tucked behind   
the protective vampire. "It's me. Ryou."  
  
The other boy, Yuugi's, violet eyes widened at an alarming rate. He poked his   
soft spiky red and black hair out from the vampire's frame. "R-Ryou?"  
  
Mutely Ryou nodded. Yuugi opened his mouth to say more but the vampire   
cut him off.   
  
"Enough." The vampire glared at Bakura with his ferocious crimson eyes.   
"We shall continue on forgetting what has happened." The statement was directed at   
the former Darkwolf.  
  
Bakura grinned. He could see the apprehension in the vampire's eyes.   
"Maybe, maybe not. My name is Bakura. And should our paths cross again, let it be   
eventful."  
  
After some reluctance the other consented. "Yami. That is close enough to my   
name." He curtly turned away, dark cape trailing after him. "Good-bye, Darkwolf."  
  
And with that, both vampire and human consort turned around and left.   
  
Ryou blinked a few times. He then noted Bakura's intense glare and cringed.   
"S-sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted."  
  
Yet, instead of inflicting punishment, the former Darkwolf simply laughed.   
His laughter echoed among the trees, stained with insanity. "No. This was perfect.   
You see, we are related in more ways than one."   
His eyes narrowed at the vampire's disappearing frame. "It comes to me now,   
all the pieces. All I have to do is wait. I am patient." Bakura licked his lips in   
anticipation, giving a few brief chuckles before turning away. Ryou followed.   
  
It would only be a few hours before daybreak. Enough time to signal a portal   
to the Shadow Realm.   
  
Revenge was waiting for him.  
  
******************************************  
  
End notes:  
  
Zoo: @.@ Wow! Notice how our chapters keep on getting progressively longer?  
  
FC: ^-^V I guess we just have too much to write about!  
  
Eevee muse: …Or too little.   
  
Zoo: *scratches head* How would that work? If you had to little to write about-  
  
Flareon muse: Then you would replace it with useless content ^_^  
  
Zoo: Oh! *after a moment it finally clicks* -_-;;; Oh….  
  
FC: Yay! I can finally update! After about a month's vacation! XD  
  
Zoo: ;_; Gomen! Sorry for the slow update to you who still read this~  
  
Eevee & Flareon muse: Please R&R ^.^ 


	9. Retribution

Disclaimer: FC and Zoo do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!  
  
FC: ^-^ Wohoo for Zoo-chan!!! Great work on your chapter and you fight scene was excellent ^^  
  
Flareon Muse: well hopefully you'll get your chapter out faster than your last!  
  
FC: *face faults* it wasn't all _that_ long to come out  
  
Eevee Muse: -.- yes it was and so was this one  
  
FC: @.@ Zoo…back up? Please? Zoo? *looks around and sees Zoo lost in a mountain of Ryou,   
Bakura, Yuugi and Yami plushies*   
  
Zoo: ^____^   
  
Eevee & Flareon Muses: o.O;;;;  
  
FC: Yay!!! *dives into mountain*  
  
Zoo: Enjoy the chapter peeps!  
  
FC: Oh and I apologise to anyone who was disturbed and/or felt ill from my graphic scenes before ^^V  
  
Eevee Muse: You still going to counselling, because of working with FC?  
  
Flareon Muse: *nods* yep  
  
Eevee Muse: do they work?  
  
Flareon Muse: …  
  
FC: *big teary eyes* you so mean…  
  
Zoo: *lost under the plushies* see ya in the endnotes!  
  
Warnings: Graphic violence, blood, gore, death, some language  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
"…And most importantly, I am free in all the ways you are not"  
-Tyler Durden, Fight Club  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Chapter 9- Retribution   
  
Yuugi had to run to keep up with Yami's long wrathful strides, swallowing hard as he glanced at the   
vampire's glaring expression. Was he wrong to have gone back to find Yami? He had left Jou   
intending to go back to the Game Shop but a feeling had made his gut twinge with one he didn't   
understand. Unsure of what it meant, he had gone to find the vampire, his senses heightened in the   
gloomy silent forest. Once he had found Yami obviously tracking something, he had stuck close   
reassured by the Game King's presence. But those thoughts weren't what plagued his mind.   
  
Ryou did.  
  
Yuugi couldn't believe what he had seen. Had Ryou _actually_ melded from a wolf to a human, or   
were his amplified senses playing with his imagination? It just couldn't be possible- it had to have been   
his mind, but…Yuugi hesitated. With all he had seen since Yami had appeared he didn't know what   
was possible and what was not. Had that _thing_ with Ryou been one of the race that branded his own   
yami, that had marked him for his entire immortal life just for one kill of their own?   
The boy understood that they had been angry but he did not understand why they felt they a right to   
label someone as a murderer when so many had got away with doing the _exact_ same thing. It wasn't   
right or fair. Sympathy welled in the youth's heart for his yami. If only life was easy, none of it might   
have happened, if the two sides could be at peace with one another…  
  
Yami stalked on, boots crushing dead leaves into the dried ground as he took no noticed of how much   
noise he made. How did that Darkwolf get to this world? What business did he have here? But more   
important than how or what was why. Why was the Darkwolf here?  
  
The questions puzzled Yami, his annoyed mind causing an angry aura to emanate from his body. The   
very air seemed to whip about him, the trees ostensibly shrinking away from him in fear. Insects   
stopped their random babbling, nocturnal creatures backed away before running back to their nests. A   
vampire was one thing, an infuriated vampire was another. That mere fact that the Darkwolf had   
mocked him because of his mark edged the fury he held in his grasp.  
  
As Yuugi walked alongside the vampire he felt the tinge of fear that turned his stomach fade to   
nothing. Why, he didn't know, but whatever caused that tinge to fade left him with a sense of security,   
one that left him unafraid of Yami when he was angry. He was the vampire's hikari and Yuugi knew he   
would not hurt him intentionally. He had learnt that over the days he had been with Yami- if he was   
going to hurt him the vampire would have by now. While all else crept away from the King of   
Vampires, Yuugi didn't even flinch as he walked beside Yami.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Cold rain began to fall as the pair walked into Domino City and down an alley, dark silhouettes   
outlined themselves in the night's shadow; watching them as they walked. One, taller than the others   
signalled them to move, following the pair down the alley.  
  
Yami's sharp senses had picked up the shadowed group earlier but had paid them no heed. Now he   
heard the soft slap of the group's feet as they came up behind the Game King. He glanced at Yuugi,   
who glanced back at him. Communicating without words but with a simple flicker of eyes, Yami   
turned; pushing Yuugi gently behind him, keeping one hand on the youth's side as a reassuring him.   
  
Crimson eyes scanned over the group of five, a familiar face appearing as the leader. His face twisted   
in an angry sneer, Ken, the bully from the cafeteria, stood forward of the other four. His wispy brown   
fringe moved in the cool breeze, his green eyes full of anger.  
  
"We have unfinished business" he voice spoke the rage in his mind as he pointed a glinting crowbar at   
the vampire. He had run in shame once, now it was the mysterious new guy's turn to run.  
  
Yami shook his head a barbaric smirk dancing across amused features. "I didn't know you were _that_   
eager to have to shit beaten out of you. Or are you just too dense to understand simple demands?"  
  
Quiet sniggers came from a couple of the thugs behind Ken. Did this guy really think he could beat   
them all? Ken silenced the sniggers with a raged glare. Turning back to Yami he held his position,   
unwilling to show fear. "You can't win again all of us and when we're finished with you…" Ken   
pointed the crowbar at Yuugi, "we'll see that runt's face twisted a new way."  
  
Yuugi didn't like where this was going. He shrunk behind Yami, dread filling his mind. Yami gave his   
arm a gentle squeeze, comforting the smaller boy as his crimson eyes presented a look of boredom.   
Enraged by Yami's complete lack of fear, Ken signalled to the four behind him, watching them run at   
the Game King, moonlight glinting off knife blades as they lunged.  
  
The next few moments became a blur for Yuugi. He vaguely remembered being pushed against a cold   
wall, lost in the wet shadowed depths, partially hidden from view. Wide violet eyes watched the chaos   
before him, pained cries filling his ears. Flashes of black, blonde and crimson darted throughout the   
fight, driven by unnatural gracefulness. The violet eyes closed as Yuugi sank to the ground, tears   
falling from his closed lids as he pulled his knees up to his chest; hands covering his ears trying to   
block out the cries and shouts.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami moved with all the refinement and agility of his kind, pushing Yuugi back out of the fray against   
one of the dark walls, concealing him from the group, before dodging nimbly aside. He was between   
the boys in the blink of a eye, wreaking havoc in their midst. The first guy, a tall muscular blonde   
looked around widely, blinking in confusion when he found the vampire was no longer in front of him.   
He turned to look for the agile being when he felt steely hands wrap around his neck, flipping him over   
onto his back, sadistic crimson eyes lit by the moon staring down at him. Before he could react Yami's   
boot crashed down on his throat, partially crushing his windpipe.  
  
The malicious eyes moved constantly with the vampire as he danced between the remaining three who   
were still on their feet. Grabbing the next youth by his arm, Yami grinned as he twisted it behind his   
back before viciously yanking it up, resounding it a loud snap as the arm broke, releasing a painful   
howl from it's owner. A knee rammed into his stomach and smacked into his nose, cracking it as he   
bent forward under the blow to his stomach, oozing blood pouring down his lip.   
  
The next two suffered similarly, before Yami turned on Ken who stood gripping the silvery crowbar,   
attempting to stop his arm from trembling. He swallowed his fear, raising the crowbar, as Yami rushed   
him. He brought the bar down, seeking to hit the vampire about his head with the metal. Yami dodged   
with lightning reflexes, slamming his fist against Ken's cheek, the silver ring, engraved with the   
vampire king's emblem that had gone unnoticed by all before, slashing a deep jagged cut along his   
cheekbone. Ken cried out in pain and rage, swinging his bar again; Yami dodging to the left as the   
youth had anticipated. He moved his arm with split second timing, whacking it across Yami's back,   
knocking him to the ground.   
  
Growling at his own mistake, the Game King began to push himself back up from the drenched ground,   
the rain beating down hard on his vulnerable form. He winced as the cruel metal bar whipped his back,   
forcing him back onto the ground; leaving a stinging welt across his back, even though his leather shirt   
absorbed some of the blow. It continued to beat down mercilessly on him, the hooked end ripping   
through his shirt, scoring into his unprotected skin. His mind racing, Yami gritted his teeth against the   
searing pain. He waited as the bar lifted off of him, before rolling out of the way as Ken brought it   
down again. Ignoring the pain the movement caused to his burning back, Yami flipped himself up,   
malicious eyes now full of fury and vicious intent. He moved again, faster than Ken's eyes could   
follow, wrenching the crowbar from the blonde's grasp, now decorated with his own blood. He swiftly   
returned the earlier attack, smashing the metal down on the youth. Ken fell to the floor, curling into a   
ball as the bloodstained alloy repeated it's torment over and over again; as the vampire beat down   
mercilessly upon him.  
  
"No one beats me with a metal bar and gets away with it."  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yuugi listened to the agonising screams, the tormenting sound ringing in his ears even though his   
hands still covered his ears. Tear ridden eyes looked up, drenched cheeks reddened as he gazed over as   
his yami beat the youth.   
  
Was this just?   
  
The youth had plagued Yuugi for years, followed them even when Yami had warned his to stay away   
and beaten the vampire with the same object he now used against it's owner. But through all this Yuugi   
could not see what the point in this was. It wasn't justice, it wasn't fair; it was pure brutal reprisal.   
Beating someone to their death was complete cruelty, no matter how evil the person. And it screamed   
mercy in Yuugi's soul. He scrambled up, his conscience refusing to let this continue.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami raised the bloodied bar, preparing to bring it back down upon the broken and bruised form before   
him. Something darted into his eye line as he brought it down. Crimson eyes widened in surprise, the   
dripping bar halting mid-air as he gaped down at Yuugi, the small teen trembling as he lay shielding   
the blood covered youth.  
  
"Yuugi what are you doing?! Let me finish what I started" Yami growled, a deep frown littering his   
brow.  
  
The violet eyed teen gazed back up at him, shaking his head as more tears fell. "No Yami. I won't let   
you. He does not deserve this brutality! No one does, you're being purely evil- I don't know this side of   
you and I don't want to. If-if you kill him then you'll have to kill me to. Even if I don't like him, I   
know this isn't right. Please…for me, stop."  
  
Yami was bewildered. Here was his hikari standing up for someone who had tormented him for   
months, pleading for his very existence to be spared. He couldn't kill his hikari in his revenge, but the   
idea of letting the youth off so _lightly_ annoyed Yami.  
  
Pleading violet eyes fell on his blood-red gaze, softening their depths as he looked into Yuugi's   
tearstained face. The bloodied crowbar fell from his loosened grip, clanking against the wet tarmac as it   
fell. Golden bangs stuck to his soaked face, ivory skin covered in large droplets of rain. The act of   
compassion before him moved the vampire more than he wanted to admit. Nothing and no one showed   
that much consideration for others in his world.  
  
And this confused Yami.  
  
Why show it? Was it something that human's could do within a split second yet would take a vampire   
an eternity to learn? Yami didn't know. All he knew was that Yuugi would not watch another being   
murdered in cold blood.  
  
"I-I am sorry Yuugi" Yami whispered quietly, surprised by the words that escaped his mouth. Was he   
actually _ashamed_ of what he had done, what he had done all his life? So many things were   
bewildering the Game King, making him realise truths he'd never known.   
  
Yuugi slouched forward, away from Ken; his shoulders trembling as he held his hands to his face,   
hiding the tears that fell, his soul flooded with emotion, some of which entered Yami through their   
connection. Bending down, Yami picked the sobbing teen up in his arms, holding Yuugi tightly against   
his chest, shielding the figure of innocence from the bloodied scene before them; ignoring the pain that   
his back screamed at him. He started to walk away, the driving rain beating down on his bruised and   
slashed back; turning back to gaze at the five youths behind them. None were dead, though some were   
nearing it's gates. One crawled over to his friend, who in turned gasped for breath through his damaged   
windpipe, another heading to Ken. The battered youth looked up at Yami, then at Yuugi, he   
consciousness fading in his dull eyes. His face was etched with surprise, he hadn't thought Yuugi   
would want him saved. Perhaps the short teen held within his yami's arms was more forgiving than   
anyone, his innocence blinding him from evil and corruption. Darkness enveloped Ken as he watched   
Yami disappear from view.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Yami knocked the back door open with his elbow, stepping inside, out of the pelting rain that cloaked   
the streets. Yuugi shivered in his arms, the freezing rain chilling him to his soul. Slowed tears mingled   
with the droplets that littered his pale face, making it hard to tell which was which.   
  
Yami was cold, but his own body could cope with it better than Yuugi's. He ran through the house, to   
an airing cupboard he had seen earlier. He pulled a large thick blanket out with one hand, the other   
stilling holding his hikari. Grabbing a thick fleece from the coat rack as he went past he made his way   
to the deserted living room; where he sat on one of the sofas, keeping Yuugi on his lap. Removing his   
own sodden leather top, he revealed the hardened muscles of his torso, Yami threw the garment to the   
floor. Quick fingers moved to Yuugi's shirt, undoing the buckles and straps, pulling his from his   
drenched body.  
  
Yuugi looked at Yami with bleary eyes, half consumed by the cold. "What are you doing?" his words   
came out dull and slurred.  
  
Yami glanced at the child, his face pale, soaked blonde bangs dripping onto his bare shoulders. "You're   
too cold, if you stay in the same clothes you are going to get hypothermia."  
  
The answer was simple, but it took Yuugi's dulling mind a few seconds to register what was said. His   
thoughts strayed back to Ken, mental images of the teen lying bloodied on the concrete bringing fresh   
tears down his cheeks. He vaguely felt his yami remove his clinging jeans, leaving the boy in his   
boxers, before he felt the soft fabric of the fleece wrap around his upper body.   
  
Yami unfolded the massive blanket, draping it around his own shoulders before pulling Yuugi closer to   
his bare skin, wrapping the blanket around both of them.   
  
"Me'a Naurim lhach."  
  
Yami's quiet spell produced a ball of fire, letting it shoot over to the traditional fireplace, lighting the   
fresh logs in its depths. The new blaze crackled merrily, brightening the dark room as well as warming   
it. He hugged Yuugi firmly, brushing the youth's hair from his face, noting the tears that still streaked   
his face as sleep began to take him. The protective feeling that gripped his soul flared up again, the   
same feeling that sparked his attack on Ken earlier; before his own revenge took over, turning the   
warm feeling to one of cold rage. It _hurt_ the vampire to see such an innocent child cry, it was as   
unnatural as he was in this world.   
  
"I am sorry," Yami found himself apologising again for his actions, a thing he would not to with   
anyone else, "I know you do not agree with my actions, but when we get to my world, you will find   
little that is better."  
  
Yuugi nodded sleepily, relaxing under Yami's gentle tone, though he heard little of what was said.   
Even if he didn't agree with the vampire he knew it was Yami's instincts that controlled his actions. He   
was born a brutal killer, he couldn't change that fact.  
  
But now as he sat in Yami's warm arms, his heart doubted that fact. True Yami was _born_ that way   
but did it make him evil? Would an evil being protect someone who wasn't even part of their own   
species? The answer was simple.  
  
No.  
  
Yami may be a vampire, but that did not mean he was amoral. Not completely anyway. Despite all the   
thoughts that drifted through his mind, Yuugi's exhausted senses gave way to the relaxing grip of   
sleep.  
  
Yami felt Yuugi go limp in his arms, crimson eyes checking over the soft angelic face of his hikari.   
Satisfied that he was simply asleep, Yami let himself lean back further into the cushioned sofa. Yuugi's   
head rested against his bare chest, moving up and down with the rhythm of his breathing.   
  
In the few days Yami had been in Yuugi's world, he had changed more than he had in 700 years. He   
couldn't remember the last dramatic change he had had. His need to maintain his position in the   
Shadowed world still drove him to return, but here on earth things seemed so much easier, more   
advanced. They had schools, strange objects that moved down hard stone-like roads, a bizarre   
invention Yuugi had called electricity. All these things and more.  
  
They may have things that Yami found intriguing, but inside he knew he didn't _belong_ here, this   
wasn't _his_ world. It was the human's. Not the Darkwolve's, not the vampire's.   
  
But what Yami found almost fearful was that his _heart_ had changed. Before he had come to this   
world, before he had met his hikari, the Game King had been the most cold hearted, malicious vampire   
in his kingdom; earning him his position of King, just as his forefathers had been. Weak vampires   
didn't make royalty. Even those without noble blood in the vampire kingdom could become king if   
they killed the existing one in the proclaimed challenge.   
  
Now the ruler's cold heart was melting, letting it beat with emotions other than hate, anger and a need   
for dominance.   
  
And this scared Yami.   
  
He didn't understand why one person would affect him so much, why one _human_ would affect him.   
Yami sighed. This wasn't how he had seen himself 150 years ago…   
  
***Flashback***********************************************************************  
  
~Shadow World 1850 AD. Reign of Tyaro~  
  
He was losing.  
  
Blood ran openly from the cuts and slashes his body had obtained. His forearms where bruised above   
his leather arm guards, his repeated defensive manoeuvring earning him a reward of pain for his   
efforts.  
  
"You shouldn't have challenged me scum! When I'm done with you there won't be anything left of   
that pretty face of yours. You're barely half my age and you hope to win? Foolish _child_."  
  
A deep growl erupted from his throat, long canines bared in unadulterated rage. No one had called him   
a child in 200 years. And all that could be said of that particular vampire was that he never spoke a   
word of it again. He smirked. Come to think of it he never said anything again.  
  
Swift reflexes, slowed through pain as they were, saved his hurting body from more abuse. Flipping   
himself onto his feet from his position on the ground, the youthful faced vampire circled the other,   
watching his opponent's movements carefully. The other may think of him as young and foolish but   
this fight had barely begun in his eyes. Challenging a King was no joke. Only the best fighters, the   
most ruthless and vicious vampires dared to try and take leadership. Those not strong enough died at   
the hands of the King.  
  
But now the malevolent gaze was concentrated on the elder vampire's lithe form, the scent of newly   
shed blood escaping from several wounds dotted over his body. Darkened eyes fell on a deep slash that   
had been raked in the elder's shoulder by his silver bladed sabre, before it had been lost earlier in their   
fight.  
  
His stance changed, moving with almost feline grace, charging at his opponent, heading for the King's   
right side. Quick silver eyes darted with the young vampire's movements, dodging left as was   
anticipated.  
  
The youth smirked, watching his plan fall into play. Moving left with the King, he struck the deep   
shoulder wound, sending the vampire's world reeling in agony. The elder being gave a savage snarl,   
trying to fight back the malicious onslaught that came out him in a blur of crimson. His efforts failed as   
the tide of the fight began to turn.   
  
The youth continued forward, punching, kicking and slashing wherever open wounds were in view.   
The spectators of the combat gazed at the pair their faces grim. The elder vampire was losing, a thing   
he had not done even before he had taken the title of King from Bison.  
  
His breathing was laboured as his actions slowed. This vampire was expeditious, and used his skill to   
wear away at his opponent, attacking their weak spots mercilessly. He found himself on his knees; the   
youthful faced vampire behind him with a sinewy arm locked about his throat.  
  
"No one calls me a child Tyaro, especially not a fallen King."  
  
The silent crowd watched from the stands as the victorious vampire plunged his teeth into Tyaro's   
neck; a tradition of the fight.   
  
Blood poured warmly down his throat as he drank from the other vampire, a new sensation of immense   
power flowing through his veins. Snapping his head back up, a barbarous smile dancing on his face,   
baring his long incisors to their full extent as he looked at the roaring crowd. Grabbing the fallen   
King's cheeks, he dug his fingers into the tender flesh, the blood running freely down Tyaro's face as   
the youth gave a violent twist and yank.  
  
Holding the former King's head up for all to see, the spectator's roar rose to a level louder than   
thunder.   
  
"Hail the Game King, Yami-Yuugi King of Vampires!"  
  
***End Flashback********************************************************************  
  
Life would never be the same after he had won the Emperor's challenge. Many more had taken place   
after that, Yami always coming out victorious, his opponent's bodies left in mangled, bloodied states.   
The vampires had functioned well with him as leader for 150 years, obtaining respect from them   
through being malignant and cold hearted.  
  
But what if they saw his heart was melting, letting a new emotion flow through his veins. One that   
Yuugi created the day he had set eyes on the innocent human.   
  
And what of Tikato?   
  
The vampire despised Yami being King, never accepting him as the Vampire's true monarch. He had   
left Yami's clan, the Ilfirin Clan, creating his own one. Now that the Game King was not in the   
Shadow World it wouldn't be long before Tikato found out. Hopefully Kiyo managed to convince   
those who had little contact with the vampire that he was still there. If he hadn't, then there would be   
chaos.   
  
Yami's alertness slowly wore itself down as he became lost in thought and memory, warmed by the   
light of the fire; comfortable with Yuugi safe in his arms. Crimson eyes drooped as his exhausted and   
beaten body gave into sleep's clutches.   
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Violet eyes blinked open, their body missing the relaxing rhythm of his yami's slow breathing.   
Blinking, Yuugi looked about the living room, noting that it was still dark except for the warm ember   
of the fire.  
  
"Yami?" he called, voice dampened with sleep as he sat up, grasping the blanket around his newly   
warmed body. He looked over at the doorway, spying Yami walk past and up the stairs. The youth   
stood, making his way over to the doorway.   
  
He almost walked into Yami who was returning from upstairs, the book he had been given by his   
grandfather in the vampire's hands.  
  
"It's time we started" Yami stated, his voice emotionless, his words confusing Yuugi.  
  
Frowning the teen followed Yami into the living room, glancing at the digital clock on the table. 3:02.   
"Start what?"  
  
Placing the book down lightly on the table, wincing slightly as he aggravated the deep slashes on his   
back. Turning back to Yuugi he noted his confused frown.  
  
"It's time for us to leave. We're going back to my world when dawn breaks. We have to go to the   
forest though to perform the spell" he explained, watching the bewilderment vanish from the youth's   
face.   
  
Violet eyes noticed the unusual tension of the vampire's body, especially his back. "Let me see your   
back."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Yuugi glared into the stubborn crimson eyes before him, refusing to back down.   
  
"No, you're not. I'm not going anywhere with you until I've seen your back" Yuugi folded his arms   
resolutely, raising one eyebrow.   
  
Yami scowled, before turning away from his hikari, bare back decorated with burning stripes of red   
welts and deep slashes, dried blood edging the ripped flesh.  
  
Yuugi's breath caught in his throat. "Oh Yami, why didn't you let me tend them earlier?"  
  
Going through to the kitchen, the teen retrieved the spared first aid box, a wad of bandages and a bowl   
of water. Switching the lights on he directed the vampire to the sofa.  
  
"You were upset enough as it was, I did not want to trouble you further" Yami mumbled, bloody eyes   
gazing into the fireplace. He growled in pain as the water soaked cloth touched his wounds, bringing   
fresh agony across his skin.  
  
Yuugi didn't answer but continued to clean the open gashes and bruised welts. He apologised when the   
vampire winced or jerked away from the crimson cloth, the soft touch goading the lacerations. Both   
hikari and yami were left in their individual thoughts as Yuugi started binding the vampire's marred   
back.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
Darkness held the trees within it's inimical clutches, shadowing the forest with a sombre serenity.   
Yuugi jogged to keep up with Yami's attenuated strides, his expression solemn as his violet eyes darted   
about his surroundings, catching their last glance at his world. He knew little of the Shadowed world;   
Yami having only talked about it briefly. All he knew was that it was full of vampires, Darkwolves and   
other such beings. Humans were there for one purpose- feeding.   
  
Their route took them to the cliffs, roaring waves crashing against the jagged faces, drowning out other   
sounds. The darkness was beginning to edge away as morning light began it's vertical route on the   
horizon. It was almost time.  
  
Yami stopped abruptly, Yuugi almost banging into him. His wide violet eyes gazed up into Yami's   
dark crimson ones as he faced the youth, the ancient volume placed on the ground next to them. He   
stepped back as Yami advanced towards him, a strange light shining in the blood-red depths.   
  
"W-what are you doing?" Yuugi jumped back as the vampire lowered his head down to Yuugi's level,   
slender fingers looking to unbuckle his neck belt.   
  
He felt the warm leather being removed, letting the cool breeze run over his smooth neck. The warm   
digits pressed against his lips as Yami's voice spoke in a calm whisper. "Shh, it'll all be over in a   
second."  
  
The voice were eerily chilling, sending a tight shiver up Yuugi's spine, making his blood run cold.   
Confusion held him in place as Yami's face drew nearer to his own, only centimetres away. The youth   
found his body responding as the vampire's lips brushed his before capturing them in a kiss.   
  
It was a moment unlike any other to Yami. He had kissed others before but this held something he was   
frightened of losing. It wasn't a moment of hate, of revenge or greed; but one of passion, of true inner   
feelings.   
  
And Yuugi was responding to the moment. He felt the heightened emotion run through his body as the   
vampire's tongue slipped past the deadly twin canines into his mouth; running over every grove and   
mark with intensified desire.  
  
As the moment ended, Yami's mouth sank lower down towards Yuugi's neck, the teen unaware of   
what the Game King was doing until he felt the prick of sharp incisors nipping his skin.  
  
Yuugi jerked away, hand held to his neck defensively. "Yami what the hell are you doing?!"  
  
Yami opened his mouth to answer but stopped first. Why was he going to do that? Shaking various   
thoughts away, he gazed at his hikari.  
  
"I have to."  
  
"Why?" Yuugi's voice held his hurt, the betrayal he felt written over his face. He gasped as Yami   
stepped forward, grabbing his upper arms firmly. "Because if I don't then you'll be killed! Because I   
don't want to see you hurt! Because…I don't want to lose you. It's the only way."  
  
Yuugi's frown disappeared as he gazed into Yami's face, seeing the sincerity of his words. His eyes   
dropped to the ground as he shook his head, knees buckling slightly, only still standing because of the   
Vampire King's hands.   
  
"I-I can't…I don't want to be like you, I don't want to murder others just so I may live.   
Please…don't…please…" The teen's voice was barely above a whisper as he pleaded helplessly.   
  
"But what else can I do?" Yami asked, his tone holding his own impotent plea.  
  
He gazed down into melting violet eyes, spying the anguish within them, momentarily fired with a glint   
of hope.   
  
"If you're King you have enough power to protect me, just like you said you would. Why can you not   
do as you said you would?" Yuugi inquired, voicing what little hope he had left.  
  
The vampire's loyalty was torn. He knew what he had said and he would do all he could to keep his   
word, but how far would that hold? Would that promise be enough to save the boy from his world?  
  
Yami's eyes darted over the ocean, landing on the light that was rising. He had to make and decision   
and he had to make it _now_.   
  
"Alright, I will stand by my word, but I do not know if that alone will protect you. I will do all I can to   
keep you safe" Yami pledged, seeing the hope shine slightly brighter.   
  
"Arigatou Yami" Yuugi hugged the vampire gratefully, feeling sheltered in the strong arms the   
encircled him.   
  
The yami pulled away again, stooping down to pick up the antediluvian volume, the rising sun at his   
side. Flicking through the yellowed pages he scanned the spells and incantations until he found what he   
wanted.  
  
"You can read that?"   
  
Yami glanced up at Yuugi. "Of course I can, it's written in Vampire script. Only Vampire Sages and   
magick users can read it. Being King I had to learn it."  
  
Yuugi felt his Puzzle warm as Yami began to chant, a soft golden glow emanating from it, intensifying   
as the vampire continued. Both hikari and yami were unaware of the eyes that watched them from the   
forest's cover.  
  
A quick wind began to ruffle Yuugi's crown of black, gold and crimson, swirling around him as Yami   
continued, his words barely audible in the howling gale that surrounded them.   
  
Panic began to fill the youth's pounding heart as the now vivid golden light from his Puzzle grew,   
threatening to envelop his diminutive frame. He faintly heard Yami's chanting stop, the light blinding   
Yuugi with it's vigour. He felt a pair of comforting arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him to   
Yami's quickly rising and falling chest. He closed his eyes, tightly clinging to his yami as the light   
engulfed them.   
  
Yuugi felt his senses numb as his world gained a dizzying sensation of floating. A wave of sadness   
gripped the youth's heart as he realised that he had nowhere left to run to; only the darkness that   
clouded his mind, claiming his consciousness.  
  
This was it.  
  
***********************************************************************************  
  
End Notes:  
  
FC: phew! Well that took longer than expected XD  
  
Flareon Muse: -.- they always do  
  
FC: *ignores her muse's comment* anyways I would like to apologise for the shortness of this chapter,   
the loooong period of time it took to come out and the sappiness near the end XD Gomen Nasai!!! Oh   
and some of the words used I don't own either the Grey Company own them!  
  
Zoo: Wheee me again now ^.^  
  
Eevee Muse: ~.~  
  
FC: ^-^ See ya later guys and please review! ^_~ 


End file.
